"Non-sectarian prayer" - H.H. Dalai Lama

A Prayer for the Flourishing of the Non-Sectarian Teachings of the Buddha

by His Holiness the Dalai Lama

Embodiment of the four kayas, omniscient Lord Buddha ‘Kinsman of the Sun,’

Amitayus, Amitabha, supreme and noble Avalokiteshvara,

Manjughosha, Vajrapani the Lord of Secrets, and Tara who wears a wrathful frown,

The victorious buddhas and all their bodhisattva heirs,

Seven Great Patriarchs, Six Ornaments and Two Supreme Ones,

Eighty Mahasiddhas and Sixteen Arhats—

All of you who seek only to benefit the teachings and beings,

All you great beings without exception, turn your attention towards us!

The supreme sage Shakyamuni spent countless aeons

Completing the two accumulations of merit and wisdom,

To attain perfect wisdom, love and capacity. Through the power of this truth,

Long may the complete teachings of the Buddha continue to flourish!

Khenpo Shantarakshita, Guru Padmasambhava and the Dharma King Trisong Deutsen,

Were the first to open up the land of snowy mountains to the light of Buddha’s teachings.

Through the power of their aspirations and those of all the translators, panditas, vidyadharas and disciples,

Long may these teachings of the Buddha flourish in the Land of Snows!

In the treasure-palace that is the Buddha’s extensive teachings,

The profound class of sadhanas are like great Dharma treasures,

And the profound and vast teachings of Nyingtik sparkle with brilliant light.

Long may these teachings of the Buddha flourish in the Land of Snows!

Within the vast expanse of primordial purity and the essence of luminosity,

All the phenomena of samsara and nirvana are perfectly complete—this pinnacle vehicle

Is the method for reaching the primordial stronghold of Samantabhadra.

Long may these teachings of the Buddha flourish in the Land of Snows!

The two major lineages—profound view and vast conduct—

Are both complete within the treasury of instructions mastered by Atisha,

The tradition of practical instructions passed on by Dromtön Gyalwé Jungné.

Long may these teachings of the Buddha flourish in the Land of Snows!

The Words of the Buddha gathered in the three scriptural collections were

Wonderfully arranged into instructions for beings of the three levels of spiritual capacity,

As the golden rosary of Kadampa teachings, with their four deities and three sets of texts.

Long may these teachings of the Buddha flourish in the Land of Snows!

The jewel treasury of the Kagyü teachings is a source of inspiration and blessings,

Coming from the translator Marpa, Milarepa Shepé Dorje and the rest,

A marvellous system of instruction from an unrivalled succession of masters.

Long may these teachings of the Buddha flourish in the Land of Snows!

All the phenomena of samsara and nirvana are the radiance of the natural mind,

And mind itself, free from complexity, is realized as the essence of the dharmakaya.

This is the great seal, Mahamudra, pervading all that appears and exists throughout samsara and nirvana.

Long may these teachings of the Buddha flourish in the Land of Snows!

Learned masters who guard the Buddha’s teachings through explanation, debate and composition,

On the key instructions of hundreds of texts for the outer and inner sciences, sutra and mantra,

This is the Sakyapa tradition of the great compassionate teachers from the divine family of Khön.

Long may these teachings of the Buddha flourish in the Land of Snows!

The extremely profound and crucial points of the practice of Lamdré, the path and its fruit,

With its four criteria of validity, have been passed on in a whispered aural lineage,

The tradition of special instructions coming from Virupa, the powerful lord of yogins.

Long may these teachings of the Buddha flourish in the Land of Snows!

Teachings of the victorious Lobzang Drakpa, skilfully combining the profound and the clear,

By perfectly uniting the profound view of the Middle Way

And the two-phase approach of the great and secret Vajra vehicle.

Long may these teachings of the Buddha flourish in the Land of Snows!

This is the supreme and noble tradition for practising,

Without mistake, the essence and gradual stages of the path,

Which incorporates all three pitakas and all four classes of tantra,

Long may these teachings of the Buddha flourish in the Land of Snows!

The combined traditions of Butön and Jonang, the transmission of instruction and realization,

For the outer, inner and alternative cycles of the Kalachakra Tantra,

Including unique explanations, not to be found in any other sutra or tantra.

Long may these teachings of the Buddha flourish in the Land of Snows!

In short, may all the teachings of the Buddha in the Land of Snows

Flourish long into the future— the ten great pillars of the study lineage,

And the chariots of the practice lineage, such as Shijé (‘Pacifying’) and the rest,

All of them rich with their essential instructions combining sutra and mantra.

May the lives of the masters who uphold these teachings be secure and harmonious!

May the sangha preserve these teachings through their study, meditation and activity!

May the world be filled with faithful individuals intent on following these teachings!

And long may the non-sectarian teachings of the Buddha continue to flourish!

Throughout all the worlds, may war, conflict, famine and evil thoughts or actions

Be eradicated entirely, so that even their names are no longer heard!

May the minds of beings be infused with love! May signs of virtue increase throughout the environment and beings!

And may an ocean of happiness and wellbeing pervade throughout the whole of space!

From this moment on, may I follow the complete path of the teachings,

Arouse the vast motivation of bodhichitta, and exert myself

In study, reflection and meditation upon the profound view,

So that I swiftly reach the ground of temporary and ultimate happiness!

For the sake of all sentient beings, who are as infinite as space,

May I engage in the activity of the buddhas and bodhisattvas,

Without ever feeling discouraged or falling prey to laziness,

Always remaining joyful, with confidence and enthusiasm!

May my body, my possessions and all my merits,

Contribute towards the happiness of beings—my very own mothers,

And may whatever sufferings they are forced to undergo,

All ripen directly upon me!

May all who see me, hear my voice, think of me or put their trust in me,

Experience the most glorious happiness and virtue!

And may even those who insult, punish, strike or disparage me,

Gain the good fortune to set out upon the path to awakening!

In short, for as long as space endures,

And for as long as there is suffering among beings,

May I too remain, to bring them benefit and happiness,

In all ways, directly and also indirectly!

The enlightened activity of the transcendent and victorious Buddha—our teacher who embodies immeasurable compassion, and has seen the nature and the multiplicity of all illusory phenomena—radiates everywhere, as far as space itself. His complete teachings of the Hinayana, Mahayana and Secret Mantra have become the most beloved treasures of Tibetan practitioners. The various traditions have developed their own specific names and terminology, according to how they have been preserved and spread by various great masters and holders of the teachings who made powerful aspirations for the preservation of the Buddhadharma. This is a prayer for these precious non-sectarian teachings of the Buddha to remain without declining in the Land of Snows, and spread widely even in this final age, as a glorious expression of the merit of beings. For a while now, I myself have thought that there should be an aspiration prayer such as this, and then I was also requested to compose one by Bardrok Chuzang Trinley Gyatso, the incarnation of Phadampa Sangye, and by several others with faithful aspirations. In particular, I received a request from Dzarong Zhadeu Trulshik Ngawang Chökyi Lodrö Rinpoche, the great upholder of the Vinaya, who maintains and furthers the transmission of vows for the Lower Vinaya (Medül) lineage coming from Lachen Gongpa Rabsel, and who clarifies the Ngagyur Nyingma teachings and enthusiastically takes the non-sectarian buddhist teachings to heart. So, as someone who has developed faith through learning something of the Dharma taught by the Buddha, and who has devotion and pure perception towards all the non-sectarian teachings of the victorious one, I, the buddhist monk Tenzin Gyatso, who diligently pursues study, reflection and meditation, wrote this prayer 2543 years after the Buddha’s parinirvana, in the Tibetan year 2126, on the thirteenth day of the first month of the Earth Hare year in the seventeenth calendrical cycle (28th February 1999), at Thekchen Chöling Monastery, Dharamsala in the Kangra district of the state of Himachal Pradesh in the noble land of India.

May the buddhas and bodhisattvas grant their blessings so that this prayer may be fulfilled! And may virtue and goodness increase!

| Translated by Adam Pearcey, 2005. 

"The Precept of Generosity" - Thich Nhat Hanh

THE SECOND PRECEPT: GENEROSITY

A commentary on one of the traditional 5 Buddhist precepts ("not stealing") as interpreted by Thich Nhat Hanh

"Aware of the suffering caused by exploitation, social injustice, stealing, and oppression, I undertake to cultivate loving kindness and learn ways to work for the well-being of people, animals, plants, and minerals. I undertake to practice generosity by sharing my time, energy, and material resources with those who are in real need. I am determined not to steal and not to possess anything that should belong to others. I will respect the property of others, but I will prevent others from profiting from human suffering or the suffering of other species on Earth."
Exploitation, social injustice, and stealing come in many forms. Oppression is one form of stealing that causes much suffering both here and in the Third World. The moment we undertake to cultivate loving kindness, loving kindness is born in us, and we make every effort to stop exploitation, social injustice, stealing, and oppression.

In the First Precept, we found the word "compassion." Here, we find the words "loving kindness." Compassion and loving kindness are the two aspects of love taught by the Buddha. Compassion, karuna in Sanskrit and Pali, is the intention and capacity to relieve the suffering of another person or living being. Loving kindness, maitri in Sanskrit, metta in Pali, is the intention and capacity to bring joy and happiness to another person or living being. It was predicted by Shakyamuni Buddha that the next Buddha will bear the name Maitreya, the Buddha of Love.

"Aware of the suffering caused by exploitation, social injustice, stealing, and oppression, I undertake to cultivate loving kindness and learn ways to work for the well-being of people, animals, plants and minerals." Even with maitri as a source of energy in ourselves, we still need to learn to look deeply in order to find ways to express it. We do it as individuals, and we learn ways to do it as a nation. To promote the well-being of people, animals, plants, and minerals, we have to come together as a community and examine our situation, exercising our intelligence and our ability to look deeply so that we can discover appropriate ways to express our maitri in the midst of real problems.

Suppose you want to help those who are suffering under a dictatorship. In the past you may have tried sending in troops to overthrow their government, but you have learned that when doing that, you cause the deaths of many innocent people, and even then, you might not overthrow the dictator. If you practice looking more deeply, with loving kindness, to find a better way to help these people without causing suffering, you may realize that the best time to help is before the country falls into the hands of a dictator. If you offer the young people of that country the opportunity to learn your democratic ways of governing by giving them scholarships to come to your country, that would be a good investment for peace in the future. If you had done that thirty years ago, the other country might be democratic now, and you would not have to bomb them or send in troops to "liberate" them. This is just one example of how looking deeply and learning can help us find ways to do things that are more in line with loving kindness. If we wait until the situation gets bad, it may be too late. If we practice the precepts together with politicians, soldiers, businessmen, lawyers, legislators, artists, writers, and teachers, we can find the best ways to practice compassion, loving kindness, and understanding.

It requires time to practice generosity. We may want to help those who are hungry, but we are caught in the problems of our own daily lives. Sometimes, one pill or a little rice could save the life of a child, but we do not take the time to help, because we think we do not have the time. In Ho Chi Minh City, for example, there are street children who call themselves "the dust of life." They are homeless, and they wander the streets by day and sleep under trees at night. They scavenge in garbage heaps to find things like plastic bags they can sell for one or two cents per pound. The nuns and monks in Ho Chi Minh City have opened their temples to these children, and if the children agree to stay four hours in the morning -- learning to read and write and playing with the monks and nuns -- they are offered a vegetarian lunch. Then they can go to the Buddha hall for a nap. (In Vietnam, we always take naps after lunch; it is so hot. When the Americans came, they brought their practice of working eight hours, from nine to five. Many of us tried, but we could not do it. We desperately need our naps after lunch.)

Then at two o'clock, there is more teaching and playing with the children, and the children who stay for the afternoon receive dinner. The temple does not have a place for them to sleep overnight. In our community in France, we have been supporting these nuns and monks. It costs only twenty cents for a child to have both lunch and dinner, and it will keep him from being out on the streets, where he might steal cigarettes, smoke, use delinquent language, and learn the worst behavior. By encouraging the children to go to the temple, we help prevent them from becoming delinquent and entering prison later on. It takes time to help these children, not much money. There are so many simple things like this we can do to help people, but because we cannot free ourselves from our situation and our lifestyle, we do nothing at all. We need to come together as a community, and, looking deeply, find ways to free ourselves so we can practice the Second Precept.

"I undertake to practice generosity by sharing my time, energy, and material resources with those who are in real need." This sentence is clear. The feeling of generosity and the capacity for being generous are not enough. We also need to express our generosity. We may feel that we don't have the time to make people happy - we say, "Time is money," but time is more than money. Life is for more than using time to make money. Time is for being alive, for sharing joy and happiness with others. The wealthy are often the least able to make others happy. Only those with time can do so.

I know a man named Bac Sieu in Thua Thien Province in Vietnam, who has been practicing generosity for fifty years; he is a living bodhisattva. With only a bicycle, he visits villages of thirteen provinces, bringing something for this family and something for that family. When I met him in 1965, I was a little too proud of our School of Youth for Social Service. We had begun to train three hundred workers, including monks and nuns, to go out to rural villages to help people rebuild homes and modernize local economies, health-care systems, and education. Eventually we had ten thousand workers throughout the country. As I was telling Bac Sieu about our projects, I was looking at his bicycle and thinking that with a bicycle he could help only a few people. But when the communists took over and closed our School, Bac Sieu continued, because his way of working was formless. Our orphanages, dispensaries, schools, and resettlement centers were all shut down or taken by the government. Thousands of our workers had to stop their work and hide. But Bac Sieu had nothing to take. He was a truly a bodhisattva, working for the well-being of others. I feel more humble now concerning the ways of practicing generosity.

The war created many thousands of orphans. Instead of raising money to build orphanages, we sought people in the West to sponsor a child. We found families in the villages to each take care of one orphan, then we sent $6 every month to that family to feed the child and send him or her to school. Whenever possible, we tried to place the child in the family of an aunt, an uncle, or a grandparent. With just $6, the child was fed and sent to school, and the rest of the children in the family were also helped. Children benefit from growing up in a family. Being in an orphanage can be like being in the army -- children do not grow up naturally. If we look for and learn ways to practice generosity, we will improve all the time.

"I am determined not to steal and not to possess anything that should belong to others. I will respect the property of others, but I will prevent others from profiting from human suffering or the suffering of other species on Earth." When you practice one precept deeply, you will discover that you are practicing all five. The First Precept is about taking life, which is a form of stealing -- stealing the most precious thing someone has, his or her life. When we meditate on the Second Precept, we see that stealing, in the forms of exploitation, social injustice, and oppression, are acts of killing -- killing slowly by exploitation, by maintaining social injustice, and by political and economic oppression. Therefore, the Second Precept has much to do with the precept of not killing. We see the "interbeing" nature of the first two precepts. This is true of all Five Precepts. Some people formally receive just one or two precepts. I didn't mind, because if you practice one or two precepts deeply, all Five Precepts will be observed.

The Second Precept is not to steal. Instead of stealing, exploiting, or oppressing, we practice generosity. In Buddhism, we say there are three kinds of gifts. The first is the gift of material resources. The second is to help people rely on themselves, to offer them the technology and know-how to stand on their own feet. Helping people with the Dharma so they can transform their fear, anger, and depression belongs to the second kind of gift. The third is the gift of non-fear. We are afraid of many things. We feel insecure, afraid of being alone, afraid of sickness and dying. To help people not be destroyed by their fears, we practice the third kind of gift-giving.

The Bodhisattva Avalokitesvara is someone who practices this extremely well. In the Heart Sutra, he teaches us the way to transform and transcend fear and ride on the waves of birth and death, smiling. He says that there is no production, no destruction, no being, no nonbeing, no increasing, and no decreasing. Hearing this helps us look deeply into the nature of reality to see that birth and death, being and nonbeing, coming and going, increasing and decreasing are all just ideas that we ascribe to reality, while reality transcends all concepts. When we realize the interbeing nature of all things -- that even birth and death are just concepts -- we transcend fear.

In 1991, I visited a friend in New York who was dying, Alfred Hassler. We had worked together in the peace movement for almost thirty years. Alfred looked as though he had been waiting for me to come before dying, and he died only a few hours after our visit. I went with my closest colleague, Sister Chan Khong (True Emptiness).

Alfred was not awake when we arrived. His daughter Laura tried to wake him up, but she couldn't. So I asked Sister Chan Khong to sing Alfred the Song of No Coming and No Going: "These eyes are not me, I am not caught by these eyes. This body is not me, I am not caught by this body. I am life without boundaries. I have never been born, I will never die." The idea is taken from the Samyutta Nikaya. She sang so beautifully, and I saw streams of tears running down the faces of Alfred's wife and children. They were tears of understanding, and they were very healing.

Suddenly, Alfred came back to himself. Sister Chan Khong began to practice what she had learned from studying the sutra The Teaching Given to the Sick. She said, "Alfred, do you remember the times we worked together?" She evoked many happy memories we had shared together, and Alfred was able to remember each of them. Although he was obviously in pain, he smiled. This practice brought results right away. When a person is suffering from so much physical pain, we sometimes can alleviate his suffering by watering the seeds of happiness that are in him. A kind of balance is restored, and he will feel less pain.

All the while, I was practicing massage on his feet, and I asked him whether he felt my hand on his body. When you are dying, areas of your body become numb, and you feel as if you have lost those parts of your body. Doing massage in mindfulness, gently, gives the dying person the feeling that he is alive and being cared for. He knows that love is there. Alfred nodded, and his eyes seemed to say, "Yes, I feel your hands. I know my foot is there."

Sister Chan Khong asked, "Do you know we learned a lot from you when we lived and worked together? The work you began, many of us are continuing to do. Please don't worry about anything." She told him many things like that, and he seemed to suffer less. At one point, he opened his mouth and said, "Wonderful, wonderful." Then, he sank back to sleep.

Before we left, we encouraged the family to continue these practices. The next day I learned that Alfred passed away just five hours after our visit. This was a kind of gift that belongs to the third category. If you can help people feel safe, less afraid of life, people, and death, you are practicing the third kind of gift.

During my meditation, I had a wonderful image -- the shape of a wave, its beginning and its end. When conditions are sufficient, we perceive the wave, and when conditions are no longer sufficient, we do not perceive the wave. Waves are only made of water. We cannot label the wave as existing or nonexisting. After what we call the death of the wave, nothing is gone, nothing is lost. The wave has been absorbed into other waves, and somehow, time will bring the wave back again. There is no increasing, decreasing, birth, or death. When we are dying, if we think that everyone else is alive and we are the only person dying, our feeling of loneliness may be unbearable. But if we are able to visualize hundreds of thousands of people dying with us, our dying may become serene and even joyful. "I am dying in community. Millions of living beings are also dying in this very moment. I see myself together with millions of other living beings; we die in the Sangha. At the same time, millions of beings are coming to life. All of us are doing this together. I have been born, I am dying. We participate in the whole event as a Sangha." That is what I saw in my meditation. In the Heart Sutra, Avalokitesvara shares this kind of insight and helps us transcend fear, sorrow, and pain. The gift of non-fear brings about a transformation in us.

The Second Precept is a deep practice. We speak of time, energy, and material resources, but time is not only for energy and material resources. Time is for being with others -- being with a dying person or with someone who is suffering. Being really present for even five minutes can be a very important gift. Time is not just to make money. It is to produce the gift of Dharma and the gift of non-fear.

Reproduced from For a Future to Be Possible: Commentaries on the Five Wonderful Precepts (1993) by Thich Nhat Hanh. Copyright 1993, Parallax Press.

THICH NHAT HANH is a Zen Buddhist monk, peace activist, scholar, and poet. He is the founder of the Van Hanh Buddhist University in Saigon, has taught at Columbia University and the Sorbonne, and now lives in southern France, where he gardens, works to help those in need, and travels internationally teaching ``the art of mindful living.'' Martin Luther King, Jr., nominated him for the Nobel Peace Prize in 1967, saying, ``I do not personally know of anyone more worthy of the Nobel Peace Prize than this gentle monk from Vietnam.''

Generosity on the path to Buddhahood - Ringu Tulku Rinpoche

First Paramita: Generosity

The essence of generosity is nonattachment. Giving enriches us, whereas holding on to things impoverishes us. Such is the karmic process coming into play in the practice of generosity. Few people these days would follow such a reasoning, and yet giving is the true source of prosperity and riches, whereas the result of avarice is poverty.

It is not always obvious, but it is certain that we are never happier than when we have few attachments, when we do not grasp at people and things. Of all possessions, the highest and noblest is contentment. Satisfaction gives us all the riches in the world, since we desire no more than what we have. A contented person is a wealthy person.

This view is not widespread today, and I often hear people say that contented people lack ambition and that without ambition one is nothing. And yet, to me, ambition seems to be a source of stress, and grasping people seem to encounter lots of problems. Of course, modern society is to a large extent built on grasping, on desire. People always want more. Their desire is like a fire that they have to keep burning. Everything they throw onto it is immediately consumed, and they constantly have to find more fuel. The only way to stop it is to find contentment. Desire and grasping are like a bottomless well: you can never fill it. Only contentment will bring us peace. As long as we are not satisfied, we are always running after something, incapable of staying still. Contentment is the prerequisite of a peaceful mind. That in no way means that we shouldn’t work or that we should just be satisfied with anything whatsoever. What matters is our attitude toward things. If we remain grasping, racked with an unquenchable thirst, we will never find contentment. We will never be able to enjoy what we have, and we will always want more.

Moreover, if we are particularly grasping and possessive, we risk being reborn in the realm of the hungry ghosts. A hungry ghost is a being who, although he already has lots of things, is convinced that everything else ought to belong to him too. According to the Tibetan tradition, a hungry ghost is like a ball of fire who never manages to touch the things he is trying to eat, and so is never able to taste anything. A hungry ghost sometimes has a belly as big as a barrel, with a narrow neck and a mouth as tiny as the eye of a needle. He doesn’t manage to get anything that he’s trying to eat into his mouth, and when food nevertheless somehow gets in, his throat is too narrow for the food to get down to his stomach.

According to the Buddha, if we’re rich in this life, it is because we’ve been generous in previous lives. If we want to become rich in the future, we must learn to give now.
A little while ago, I read an interesting book written by an American author whose name I forget. Its title was something like How to Get Rich Quick The author explained that, as a consultant to large firms for whom he trained administrators, he had tried to understand how some men had managed to become so rich. According to him, the only way to get rich quick was to adopt the policies of General Motors in the United States, whose motto is “Give people more of what they want and less of what they don’t want.” Curiously, this is more or less what is said in the Buddhist tradition, and it echoes our belief that if we give, we will become rich. Of course, the motivation is completely different, but the parallel remains interesting.

If we give more, we’ll receive more, perhaps in this life, perhaps in another. If we are rich but don’t have the courage to enjoy what we have and share it with others, then no matter how much we possess, it’s as if we had nothing. Wealth brings us a certain power, a certain importance, but also many problems, stresses, and worries. I’m not saying that we must lack what is necessary for living; we obviously need money and shouldn’t underestimate its importance, but let’s remember that there is also a “return:’ a “dividend” linked to what we give. According to the law of karma, the more we give, the more we receive. However, paradoxically, if we give in order to get something in return, this process no longer functions.

Gampopa quotes many texts that explain what generosity is and what its advantages are. To summarize, we could compare the act of giving to an investment with a very high interest rate. Not only do we get back the sum we initially invested but we also receive considerable interest. By helping others, we improve our own situation, which allows us to give even more in the future, and our generosity grows continuously.
In his Letter to a Friend, Nagarjuna says:

Knowing that possessions are ephemeral and devoid of essence,
Practice generosity with respect
Toward monks, Brahmans, the destitute, and friends.
For the next life, there is no better friend than what one has given.

What we’ve given remains, while what we’ve kept no longer belongs to us. At the moment of death, everything that we’ve given becomes essential, whereas what we’ve kept becomes useless. We’re no longer afraid to lose what we’ve given away, while what we have is a source of anxiety. What we’ve given away shows us the way to enlightenment, while what we’ve kept shows us the way of suffering and affliction.

Nonattachment is at the heart of generosity. Generosity is chiefly a state of mind characterized by nonattachment. How generous we are is an indication of how detached we are from what we have.
Three types of giving can be practiced:

1.    The giving of material things,
2.    The giving of protection, and
3.    The giving of the Dharma.

Material things can be given in a pure or an impure fashion. The gift is impure when it is accompanied by a wrong motivation, when one gives things that are inappropriate, when one gives to an inappropriate person, or when one gives in an unskillful way. These four ways of giving do not generate any benefit.
To give with a wrong motivation means to give with the intention to harm, or for one’s own glory, or to besmirch a rival.

Things that are inappropriate to give are, for example, poison or weapons that will certainly harm the recipient as much as the person against whom they will be used.

To give to the wrong people is to give to those who have wrong intentions. If a person with wrong motivation or a madman asks us for something that he shouldn’t have, or if someone asks for our help to commit suicide, we absolutely must not give what is asked for, since it would only harm the person.

The wrong way to give is to give without joy, without respect, with anger, with hatred, or in an offensive manner. To give away something that our family doesn’t want us to give, or that could affect them negatively, is also wrong. In such a case, it’s better to abstain.
The four pure ways of giving are exactly the opposite of these ways.
The second type of giving consists in protecting someone from a fear or a danger. The help can be psychological, physical, or material.
The last type of giving, that of the Dharma, consists in pointing out the correct path, what should be done and not done.

There is a difference between the simple fact of giving and the paramita, the transcendence of generosity. To qualify as a paramita, generosity doesn’t depend on the size of the gift. Everything lies in the manner of giving, in our detachment and in the way we manage our emotional reactions linked to giving: our avarice, our possessiveness, the image we have of ourselves and our attitude toward the person who receives our gift. We speak of transcendent generosity when we’re totally detached from the notion of a giver, a receiver, and what is given, when we cast aside all strategy in giving.

When we give, we must always be mindful of using the “three skillful means of a bodhisattva,” which increase the effects of generosity. These are wisdom (yeshe), intelligence (sherab), and dedication.

To give with wisdom is to be able to view the person who gives (this can be ourselves), the object of the gift, and the person who receives it as dependently arising aggregates like a mirage, a rainbow, or a rivet The presence of this understanding transcends the act of giving from samsaric to enlightened and increases its beneficial effects. When we consider subject, act, and object with wisdom, our generosity no longer awakens in us the least attachment or pride. Free from pride and attachment, giving is perfectly pure.

Intelligence encourages us to give with good intentions, in a clever manner. We purify the giving by thinking, “I am making this gift in order that all beings be liberated from suffering and attain enlightenment?’ This positive motivation frees us from all attachment, from all expectation or hope of reward.

The third skillful means is dedication. We multiply the value of what we give by dedicating the act. Every time we are generous, however small the gift, we should think, “I offer all the merit generated by this act to all beings, that they may attain enlightenment?’ Traditionally, it is said that, dedicated in this way, the merit generated even by the smallest gift is multiplied by as many times as there are beings in the universe.

With these three skillful means, it doesn’t matter whether our gifts are great or small. In both cases they will bring infinite benefit.

Extracted from "Path to Buddhahood" by Ringu Tulku Rinpoche. Published by Shambhala Publications
This book is a commentary on a text by the great 12th century teacher Gampopa "The Jewel Ornament of Liberation"

Ringu Tulku Rinpoche is a Tibetan Buddhist Master of the Kagyu Order. He was trained in all schools of Tibetan Buddhism under many great masters including HH the 16th Gyalwang Karmapa and HH Dilgo Khentse Rinpoche. He took his formal education at Namgyal Institute of Tibetology, Sikkim and Sampurnananda Sanskrit University, Varanasi, India and has served as Tibetan Textbook Writer and Professor of Tibetan Studies in Sikkim for 25 years.

Since 1990 he has been travelling and teaching Buddhism and Meditation at Universities, Institutes and Buddhist Centers in Europe, USA, Canada, Australia and Asia. He also participates in various interfaith and Science and Buddhist dialogues. He authored several books (see publications section) on Buddhism as well as some children’s books both in Tibetan and European languages. Rinpoche is also a great supporter, historian and proponent of the Rime' movement. For more information visit:
www.bodhicharya.org

"Generosity in the Land of the Individualist" by Ajahn Amaro

Welcome to Generous July! 

To introduce us to the Paramita Practice theme of Generosity for the month of July, here is an adaptation of a talk given by a great English monk of the Thai Theravadan Forest Monk tradition, Ajahn Amaro. 


Rugged Interdependency:  Generosity in the Land of the Individualist

Ajahn Amaro 

The Buddhist festival known as the Kathina revolves around the simple act of offering a piece of cloth to a monk or a nun. But it's really much more than that. What this ceremony symbolizes is the profound relationship between the two halves of the Buddhist community: the Sangha and lay society. In the Kathina, there is a recognition of the physical dependency of the monastics on their lay supporters.
In the U.S., the idea of consciously becoming dependent on others is anathema to us. This is the land of the rugged individualist, where we "don't need nothin' from nobody." We get out there and do it on our own. Plow the land. Build a house. Make our own world. The way people relate to those living on welfare, hand-outs, or begging illustrates society's view that dependence is a lower form of life. You have failed if you are on welfare. You are in a degraded state if you need help. Most people would probably agree that this is the national mindset.

So what on earth is this business of choosing to live on hand-outs for the rest of your life? The set up in the Buddhist tradition runs counter to the self-sufficient, rugged-individualistic mindset. People often say to us: "You mean you don't grow anything? You just live on what people give you?" They become puzzled or upset. These things need to be explained.

However it might be misconstrued by others, the Buddha himself was very clear about the value of monastics being physically dependent on the greater lay community. For one, religious figures often get put into a high position in society. They become invested with a lot of power and authority by people around them. Begging is a brilliant way of limiting that area of power and control. While you may be an extremely high and revered spiritual teacher, at the beginning of the day, your bowl is still empty. You have no money to buy what you want or to go where you like. There may be a lot of power and authority in some areas of your life, but there is zero in others. Physical dependence is a skillful way to keep the power given to religious figures under control and in balance.

We can also reflect on the four requisites as laid out by the Buddha: food, lodging, robes, and medicine. These are the basic supports for life. Because of our dependency, we reflect on the physical needs that we have and we learn to use frugally what we have been given. We reflect on being easy to support. Of course, these are not highly refined metaphysical reflections; they are much more basic. The monk is hungry; give him food. This one's cold; wrap some cloth around him. The relationship between the monastics and the lay community is built on that physical dependency. We are not able to ask for anything and therefore must rely entirely upon the quality of our lives. If our lives are useful and have meaning to the greater community, then the bits of cloth will show up. The food will arrive. And if our lives are not worthy, then it won't show up.

The Buddha was a genius in establishing this kind of contact. Simply to survive, the monastics must consciously and on a daily basis interact with the greater society. We can't depend upon ourselves. We can't live independently from you. We can't shut the door and say that you laypeople are not welcome to visit us "serious meditators." Our bodies are fueled by the food you offer us. In fact, scientists say that all the cells of the body are replaced every seven years, so any of us who has been ordained for that long now has a body that is completely donated.

Looking at our lives of dependency in this way, we start to relate to things in a different fashion. If it were not for the accumulated kindnesses, efforts, and good will of countless hundreds and thousands of people, this body would not be able to sustain itself. Kindness is the actual physical fabric of what we think of as "me." Monastics are made up of all those little potluck dishes you have offered to us. I find this a very beautiful and comforting thought.

In return, the monastic community endeavors to live life in a way that brings clarity of mind. Our intention is to live harmoniously and respectfully both within our community as well as within the greater world. We create and hold a space-a sacred space that encourages safety and freedom. Within this environment, the very best qualities of the human heart can be developed.

Not surprisingly, one of these qualities is that of generosity. The Buddha said, "If you knew the karmic results of giving, you wouldn't eat even one meal without sharing what you've got with somebody else." Ajahn Sumedho often adds: "Happiness is when you get what you want, but joy comes from giving." Perhaps this sounds like a line to get people to empty their pockets: "Giving is really good for you folks," as Jimmy Swaggert used to say. "The rattle of small change makes me nervous. Only folding money please."

And, of course, these kinds of teachings can be abused; however, the Buddha felt it was so important to establish "an economy of gifts" that he was prepared to be criticized on the one hand by the brahmins-who felt he had betrayed his class by forsaking his life as a noble prince and begging in the streets-and on the other hand by the samanas, the ascetic wanderers, who felt it was outrageous that the Buddha would sometimes accept offerings of fine food, expensive cloth, and grand dwelling places. The Buddha's reasoning on this latter point was that as long as an offering was not solicited and the nun or monk used it for supporting the practice of the holy life without attachment, it could be considered a pure offering.

Through practice, we can experience for ourselves that giving is so powerful because it is the most practical and direct method of counteracting selfishness. That which wants to hang on to something "for me" is a barricade blocking the door to liberation. "Me first" means "me last" to Nibbana. That which doesn't want to bother with other people and is concerned only with "my own" protection, "my own" comfort, "my own" preferences is the real problem.

In Asian countries, babies are taught when they are about six months old to put food into alms-bowls. The whole family applauds as the sticky rice drops from that little hand into the monk's bowl. The kid gets the idea early on: when stuff leaves your hand, you feel happy. It feels good to give.

But generosity is not just giving material things. It's giving one's time or attention. It's being in conversation and actually listening to what the other person is saying. How many of us can do that? That is a true form of giving. In giving our attention, we are giving our heart.

The Buddha talked about different ways of giving. There's what he might have called "cheapo" giving, which says, "I'm going to get rid of this anyway, so I might as well give it to you." Then there's the medium level of giving, which is sharing something that is valuable to you with others. However regal giving, or raja dana, is the most powerful form of giving. It is giving what is most precious to you. With all three forms, giving with an expectation of return is not giving at all. It's called cutting a deal. Deal-making does not bring particularly bright states of mind. It's more like a business transaction: "I'll stake this much and get back that much." Instead, giving should be done as the Christians recommend-without expecting anything in return. You are not giving in order to get; giving is a pure and unselfish act of kindness.

There is often a barrier to giving, though. When you think about giving away something that you like, questions come up: "Can I really afford this?" "Maybe I haven't got the time." We might have to exert some real effort to climb over these barriers of second thoughts, and this is not comfortable. There can be feelings of grief or pain when you give something to another person. But on the other side, there is a sigh of relief. Now we are in a space of freedom. When we make a gesture to go against self-centered habits, we feel delight.

The Buddha also made a clear reference to the fact that giving impersonally to the Sangha is of far greater karmic significance than giving to an individual, even if that person is a fully enlightened Buddha. In giving to an individual, we are still caught within the bounds of the idea of self. "This is me here giving to you there." That's the human tendency. Something in us wants to bond to a particular monk or teacher on a one-to-one basis. However, it's of far greater benefit to everyone to give from the heart whatever supports the Sangha and therefore all beings. By that very gesture, we have expanded our own heart beyond the personal, self-centered view.

It is in this way that the offering of the Kathina cloth-and all these other useful gifts for the monastery-is the most meritorious of all material offerings to the Sangha. The simple gesture of offering cloth is a way of manifesting the interdependence of our relationship. The monastics and the laypeople are a single, unified, whole community. What is given to us will be used and looked after. Your offerings will be helpful to the development of this monastery and to this way of life for years to come.

Adapted from a Dhamma talk given at Abhayagiri Monastery on the occasion of their first Kathina ceremony in October 1999.

Ajahn Amaro (born 1956) is a Theravadin teacher and was until recently co-abbot of the Abhayagiri Buddhist Monastery in California's Redwood Valley. The center, in practice as much for ordinary people as for monastics, is inspired by the Thai Forest Tradition and the teachings of the late Ajahn Chah. Its chief priorities are the teaching of Buddhist ethics, together with traditional concentration and insight meditation techniques, as an effective way of dissolving stress. Ajahn Amaro has recently accepted the position of Abbot at the wests first Thai Forest centre, Amaravati in the UK.
See: www.amaravati.org