The Collected Works of Chögyam Trungpa: Volume Eight (15 page)

T
HE GOAL OF WARRIORSHIP
is to express basic goodness in its most complete, fresh, and brilliant form. This is possible when you realize that you do not
possess
basic goodness but that you
are
the basic goodness itself. Therefore, training yourself to be a warrior is learning to rest in basic goodness, to rest in a complete state of simplicity. In the Buddhist tradition, that state of being is called
egolessness
. Egolessness is also very important to the Shambhala teachings. It is impossible to be a warrior unless you have experienced egolessness. Without egolessness, your mind will be filled with your self, your personal projects and schemes. Instead of concern for others, you become preoccupied with your own “egofulness.” The colloquial expression that someone is “full of himself” refers to this kind of arrogance and false pride.

Renunciation, as discussed in the last chapter, is the attitude that overcomes selfishness. The result of renunciation is that you enter the warrior’s world, a world in which you are more available and open to others, but also more brokenhearted and alone. You begin to understand that warriorship is a path or a thread that runs through your entire life. It is not just a technique that you apply when an obstacle arises or when you are unhappy or depressed. Warriorship is a continual journey. To be a warrior is to learn to be genuine in every moment of your life. That is the warrior’s discipline.

There are, unfortunately, many negative connotations of the word “discipline.” Discipline is often associated with punishment, imposing arbitrary rules and authority, or control. In the Shambhala tradition, however, discipline is connected with how to become thoroughly gentle and genuine. It is associated with how to overcome selfishness and how to promote egolessness, or basic goodness, in yourself and others. Discipline shows you how to make the journey of warriorship. It guides you in the way of the warrior and shows you how to live in the warrior’s world.

The warrior’s discipline is unwavering and all-pervasive. Therefore, it is like the sun. The light of the sun shines wherever the sun rises. The sun does not decide to shine on one piece of land and neglect another. The sunshine is all-pervasive. Similarly, the warrior’s discipline is not selective. The warrior never neglects his discipline or forgets it. His awareness and sensitivity are constantly extended. Even if a situation is very demanding or difficult, the warrior never gives up. He always conducts himself well, with gentleness and warmth, to begin with, and he always maintains his loyalty to sentient beings who are trapped in the setting-sun world. The warrior’s duty is to generate warmth and compassion for others. He does this with complete absence of laziness. His discipline and dedication are unwavering.

When the warrior has unwavering discipline, he takes joy in the journey and joy in working with others. Rejoicing takes place throughout the warrior’s life. Why are you always joyful? Because you have witnessed your basic goodness, because you have nothing to hang on to, and because you have experienced the sense of renunciation that we discussed earlier. Therefore, your mind and body are continually synchronized and always joyful. This joy is like music, which celebrates its own rhythm and melody. The celebration is continuous, in spite of the ups and downs of your personal life. That is what is meant by constantly being joyful.

Another aspect of the warrior’s discipline is that it also contains discriminating awareness, or skillful intelligence. Therefore, it is like a bow and arrow. The arrow is sharp and penetrating; but to propel, or put into effect, that sharpness, you also need a bow. Similarly, the warrior is always inquisitive, interested in the world around him. But he also needs skillful action in order to apply his intelligence. When the arrow of intellect is joined with the bow of skillful means, then the warrior is never tempted by the seductions of the setting-sun world.

Temptation here refers to anything that promotes ego and goes against the vision of egolessness and basic goodness. There are many temptations, big and small. You can be tempted by a cookie or a million dollars. With the sharpness of the arrow, you can clearly see the setting sun, or any degraded activities that are going on—in yourself first, to be honest, and then in the rest of the world. But then to actually avoid temptation, you need the bow: You need to harness your insight with skillful action. This principle of the bow and arrow is learning to say no to ungenuineness, to say no to carelessness or crudeness, to say no to lack of wakefulness. In order to say no properly, you need both the bow and arrow. It has to be done with gentleness, which is the bow, and with sharpness, which is the arrow. Joining the two together, you realize that you
can
make a distinction: You can discriminate between indulging and appreciating. You can look at the world and see the way things actually work. Then you can overcome the myth, which is your own myth, that you can’t say no—that you can’t say no to the setting-sun world, or no to yourself when you feel like sinking into depression or indulgence. So the bow and arrow are connected first of all with overcoming the temptation of the setting-sun world.

When you learn to overcome temptation, then the arrow of intellect and the bow of action can manifest as trust in your world. This brings further inquisitiveness. You want to look into every situation and examine it, so that you won’t be fooling yourself by relying on belief alone. Instead, you want to make a personal discovery of reality, through your own intelligence and ability. The sense of trust is that, when you apply your inquisitiveness, when you look into a situation, you know that you will get a definite response. If you take steps to accomplish something, that action will have a result—either failure or success. When you shoot your arrow, either it will hit the target or it will miss. Trust is knowing that there will be a message.

When you trust in those messages, the reflections of the phenomenal world, the world begins to seem like a bank, or reservoir, of richness. You feel that you are living in a rich world, one that never runs out of messages. A problem arises only if you try to manipulate a situation to your advantage or ignore it. Then you are violating your relationship of trust with the phenomenal world, so then the reservoir might dry up. But usually you will get a message first. If you are being too arrogant, you will find yourself being pushed down by heaven, and if you are being too timid, you will find yourself being raised up by earth.

Ordinarily, trusting in your world means that you expect to be taken care of or to be saved. You think that the world will give you what you want—or at least what you expect. But as a warrior, you are willing to take a chance; you are willing to expose yourself to the phenomenal world, and you trust that it will give you a message, either of success or failure. Those messages are regarded neither as punishment nor as congratulation. You trust, not in success, but in reality. You begin to realize that you usually fail when action and intellect are undisciplined or unsynchronized, and that you usually succeed when intelligence and action are fully joined. But whatever the result that comes from your action, that result is not an end in itself. You can always go beyond the result; it is the seed for a further journey. So a sense of continually going forward and celebrating your journey comes from practicing the warrior’s discipline of the bow and arrow.

The final aspect of the warrior’s discipline is meditative awareness. This principle of discipline is connected with how to take your seat in the warrior’s world. The unwavering sun of discipline provides a path of exertion and joy that allows you to make your journey, while the bow and arrow principle provides a weapon to overcome temptation and penetrate the vast reservoir of resources in the phenomenal world. But neither of these can fulfill itself unless the warrior has a solid seat, or sense of presence, in his world. Meditative awareness enables the warrior to take his seat properly. It shows him how to regain his balance when he loses it, and how to use the messages of the phenomenal world to further his discipline, rather than simply being distracted or overwhelmed by the feedback.

The principle of meditative awareness can be likened to an echo that is always present in the warrior’s world. The echo is experienced first in the sitting practice of meditation. When your thoughts wander in meditation or you become “lost in thought,” the echo of your awareness reminds you to label your thoughts and return to the breath, return to a sense of being. Similarly, when the warrior starts to lose track of his discipline, by taking time off or indulging in a setting-sun mentality, his awareness is like an echo that bounces back on him.

At first, the echo may be fairly faint, but then it becomes louder and louder. The warrior is constantly reminded that he has to be on the spot, on the dot, because he is choosing to live in a world that does not give him the setting sun’s concept of rest. Sometimes you might feel that the setting-sun world would be a tremendous relief. You don’t have to work too hard there; you can flop and forget your echo. But then you may find it refreshing to return to the echo, because the setting-sun world is too deadly. There is not even an echo in that world.

From the echo of meditative awareness, you develop a sense of balance, which is a step toward taking command of your world. You feel that you are riding in the saddle, riding the fickle horse of mind. Even though the horse underneath you may move, you can still maintain your seat. As long as you have good posture in the saddle, you can overcome any startling or unexpected moves. And whenever you slip because you have a bad seat, you simply regain your posture; you don’t fall off the horse. In the process of losing your awareness, you regain it
because
of the process of losing it. Slipping, in itself, corrects itself. It happens automatically. You begin to feel highly skilled, highly trained.

The warrior’s awareness is not based on the training of ultimate paranoia. It is based on the training of ultimate solidity—trusting in basic goodness. That does not mean that you have to be heavy or boring, but simply that you have a sense of being solidly rooted or established. You have trust and you have constant joyfulness; therefore you can’t be startled. Sudden excitement or exaggerated reactions to situations need not occur at this level. You belong to the world of warriors. When little things happen—good or bad, right or wrong—you don’t exaggerate them. You constantly come back to your saddle and your posture. The warrior is never amazed. If somebody comes up to you and says, “I’m going to kill you right now,” or “I have a present of a million dollars for you,” you are not amazed. You simply assume your seat in the saddle.

The principle of meditative awareness also gives you a good seat on this earth. When you take your seat on the earth properly, you do not need witnesses to confirm your validity. In a traditional story of the Buddha, when he attained enlightenment someone asked him, “How do we know that you are enlightened?” He said, “Earth is my witness.” He touched the earth with his hand, which is known as the earth-touching mudra, or gesture. That is the same concept as holding your seat in the saddle. You are completely grounded in reality. Someone may say, “How do I know that you are not overreacting to situations?” You can say, simply, “My posture in the saddle speaks for itself.”

At this point, you begin to experience the fundamental notion of fearlessness. You are willing to be awake in whatever situation may present itself to you, and you feel that you can take command of your life altogether, because you are not on the side of either success or failure. Success and failure are your journey. Of course, you may still experience fear within the context of fearlessness. There may be times on your journey when you are so petrified that you vibrate in the saddle, from your teeth to your hands to your legs. You are hardly sitting on the horse—you are practically levitating with fear. But even that is regarded as an expression of fearlessness, if you have a fundamental connection with the earth of your basic goodness.

The blazing jewels, representing the principles of richness and command
.

DESIGN BY CHÖGYAM TRUNGPA. EXECUTED BY MOLLY NUDELL.

TEN

Letting Go

When you live your life in accordance with basic goodness, then you develop natural elegance. Your life can be spacious and relaxed, without having to be sloppy. You can actually let go of your depression and embarrassment about being a human being, and you can cheer up.

T
HE RESULT OF PRACTICING
the discipline of warriorship is that you learn to stop ambition and frivolity, and out of that, you develop a good sense of balance. Balance comes, not from holding on to a situation, but from making friends with heaven and earth. Earth is gravity, or practicality. Heaven is vision or the experience of open space in which you can uplift your posture, your head and shoulders. Balance comes from joining practicality with vision, or we could say, joining skill with spontaneity.