tantra and mushotoku

Recently, I read two books by Chögyam Trungpa: Meditation in Action written in 1968 and The Lion’s Roar: An Introduction to Tantra from 1973. Trungpa is a fascinating author who possesses deep experience and access to Buddhism, which he is able to convey brilliantly in a vivid and lucid manner. One might say: with diamond-like clarity.

And that brings us directly to the book The Lion’s Roar, in which he describes the practice, the characteristics, the distinctive features, the dangers, as well as the total freedom that the practice of Tantra might offer.

In Buddhism, we know the Hinayana, the “small vehicle,” the initial teachings of the Buddha, the four noble truths : life is suffering, the cause of suffering, the cessation of suffering, the path. We know Mahayana, the “great vehicle,” the continuation of the teaching including the ideal of the Bodhisattva, who postpones his or her own liberation in order to help other beings, all beings.

To this, Trungpa adds the Vajrayana path, the “diamond vehicle,” a term that already carries something of the expressive power with which he is able to describe this practice, the experiences of this practice, the obstacles, and the possibilities of this path. Vajrayana, the diamond path.

This book, The Lion’s Roar, makes clear what this path is about while simultaneously showing that it cannot be realized without close contact to a mentor, a guru, a “benevolent dictator,” as Trungpa calls him.

The goal of this path, as I understood it, is to leave behind the attachment that is still present in Mahayana, namely the desire to save sentient beings. The ideal seems to be the development of an attitude that Trungpa calls “crazy wisdom”: a state of complete confidence that one’s actions are good, without referring to any moral, social, spiritual, or religious framework. There are no reference points anymore, as there are in Mahayana : to do good, to avoid actions which create suffering.

He describes this in a brilliantly convincing way. Reading it, one becomes unsettled by the clarity with which this path is laid out before the reader and, at the same time, by the impossibility or better the obstacles involved in practicing it.

For me, another difficulty arose: I disagreed with the goal of this practice. I found this completely detached mode of action troubling, especially since Trungpa himself says that it can be very dangerous if not properly applied, leading to deeply negative and destructive behavior. “You can become a cosmic ape, the cosmic monster.”

The history of the Shambhala community founded by Trungpa is filled with sexual abuse and alcoholism. It thus reveals the difficulties inherent in practicing a path that is entirely detached from ethical or moral sensibilities. Especially here in the west with our ideal of personal „ freedom “ .

Such was my understanding as I read this book. Despite all the brilliance, precision, and clarity that radiate from the text, the direction this path takes reminds me of the current development of artificial intelligence that we are witnessing today. The human being, the practitioner, might follow a path whose result, the goal he has set for himself, slips out of his hands.

After 45 years of Zen practice, with ups and downs in personal matters, I never have lost trust in the Buddha’s teaching and in its core insight: that all forms of existence are one. The misterious principle as Sosan calls it. Thich Nhat Hanh repeatedly expresses it in the term interbeing.

And I would like to say, without arrogance, that Saint Francis of Assisi, who was said to be able to speak with animals, with birds and fish , and who was also able to hear them, feels closer to me than a Buddhist yogi in Tibet who can perform miracles, be present in several places at once, or overcome great distances within seconds. Please recognize that this is just a personal opinion.

This brings back a Zen story: A student returns to his master, and the master asks, “What did you learn on your pilgrimage?” The student replies, “I have learned to walk on water.” The masters answer: “ What a way to waste your precious life ? The ferryman will take you across for two coins .”

I feel that our practice should not strive to achieve something extraordinary, to outgrow ourselves, through the practice itself. The Japanese word mushotoku, without intention, without profit, without gain, is, for me the key to practice the way.

I have written a short text about mushotoku which I would like to place after my thoughts on the practice of Vajrayana.

Mushotoku Japanese: without intention. We can say that nature does not suffer. Trees do not suffer, plants do not suffer. Animals that live freely, reproduce, and serve as nourishment for one another but they do not suffer. What human beings do to nature causes suffering: it is the human intention, the industrialization of agriculture, of plants, of animals confined in the smallest spaces, all directed solely toward making profit. The intention to draw gain from life, personal gain, not to support life, but to exploit it for one’s own interests, that is the root of suffering.

Mushotoku , without intention. We can walk quickly, run, not in order to arrive first or to flee an enemy, but just out of the joy of running fast.

We can practice meditation, practicing insight, not only to purify our mind, develop compassion, become holy or to avoid difficulties, to become calm, to sleep better. We can meditate in the realization of immersing ourselves in being, just as it is, without intention.

Being. Being as an intangible, incomprehensible, dynamic state. Being from which an infinite, unfathomable number of phenomena emerges. Phenomena that do not contradict one another, that limit and complement one another in equal measure, that support, sustain, and also extinguish one another. This being is. Being simply is. And being is good, joyful.

When we understand that being is good, when we understand the goodness that is given, we leave behind the feeling of guilt. And with that, our actions become free from the desire to make something right again, to correct, to make it better. It is just good.

To realize this , beyond moral, social, cultural, and psychological demands, is good because it is. From this being we have emerged, thrown into existence, and to this being we return, without birth and without death. This way I understand the Buddhist teaching.

The Buddhist teaching as a doctrine as an intellectual concept can become an obstacle as separating as from life through our innate discursive process of thought. Realizing this dilemma we practice meditation, insight. We can become able to live this goodness of just being. Being without intention, without fear, without goal, without a desire for social validation or spiritual progress, for whatsoever Mushotoku.