The Collected Works of Chögyam Trungpa: Volume Five (47 page)

The songs of Tilopa point out the indivisibility of saṃsāra and nirvāṇa so that whatever arises is neither rejected nor accepted and we can recognize naked and raw coemergent wisdom on the spot. The songs of Nāropa bring realization of one taste, so that pain and pleasure are no longer connected with hope and fear. The songs of Marpa Lotsāwa describe how to establish a relationship with saṃsāric society, when to join in and when to transcend. These songs of the great Lotsāwa instruct us in going beyond our body and mind neurosis, so that we can realize the unity of synchronized mind and body and thus become great warriors.

The songs of Milarepa tell us how we can free ourselves of both loneliness and claustrophobia through the extraordinary ascetic exertion of joining together nāḍī, prāṇa, and bindu. The songs of Gampopa inspire us in the supreme samādhi that quells neurotic tendencies. As it is said in the
Samādhirājasūtra,
by achieving ultimate śamatha-vipaśyanā and realizing the great bliss, we can follow all the stages of the path. The songs of the Karmapas enable us to transcend hope and fear. Through total devotion, the blessings of auspicious coincidence are realized, so that we become genuine dharmic people.

The songs of other lineage holders point out to us the guru in our mind as one taste, and emptiness and compassion as a way to soften ourselves into decent human beings. They arouse in us the realization that the cause and effect of karma is inevitable and bring the revulsion and renunciation that come from seeing that the saṃsāric scheme is futile and impermanent. Many of these songs act to clear obstacles and generate exertion in practice. According to tradition, each lineage holder has composed hundreds of thousands of songs of this nature. Some of these songs that were recorded appear in this particular text.

The essence of all the songs can be epitomized by the four dharmas of Gampopa. These are: (1) one’s mind becomes dharmic; (2) that dharma practice becomes path; (3) in following that path, confusion is removed; (4) having removed confusion, everything dawns as wisdom.

The first dharma is the ground, where our mind becomes dharmic so that we and the dharma are no longer separate entities. We develop true renunciation and have a sense of revulsion towards saṃsāra. The second dharma is the path. When our mind goes along with the dharma, the dharma becomes path, and any obstacles, whether extreme or ordinary, become a part of our journey. The third dharma is the fruition. As the journey is taking place, the process of the journey liberates us from confusion and anxiety. We are delighted by our journey and we feel it is good. The fourth dharma is the total vision. When we are able to overcome confusion and anxiety, even our anxiety is not regarded as antidharma or antipath. Cosmic wakefulness takes place.

So to begin with, the lineage songs are genuine and precise. Then, because of their genuineness, we find them powerful and helpful. And because we can follow them easily, insight does not come as an unusual climax; it is simply the natural and obvious clarity of wakefulness. In this way Kagyü dharma is good and genuine. We are so privileged to be in the world of the Kagyü dharma.

I dedicate this book,
The Rain of Wisdom,
and its translation to all sentient beings without exception. May they benefit by it—those who oppose the Kagyü dharma of Vajradhatu as well as those who join in. Without exception, anyone who has had the slightest contact with our Kagyü dharma, whether with positive or negative reactions, is bound to become liberated.

With my humble duty, I remain a mere speck of dust. Since the forefathers wish to burden me with the responsibilities of a vajrācārya and vidyādhara, I remain a humble servant of the Practice Lineage.

The Vidyādhara, Vajrācārya the Venerable Chökyi Gyatso, the Eleventh Trungpa

March 4, 1980

The Songs of Chögyam Trungpa

The Spontaneous Song of the White Banner

L
AST NIGHT
I
DREAMT
my only father guru, Padma Tri-me, was carrying a white banner, marked with a blue
HŪṂ,
that fluttered in the wind. He was mounted on a unbridled white horse, riding on the surface of the ocean. As I awoke, with bittersweet memory, I wrote this song of recollection:

Incomparable father, lord guru:

When you are riding the white horse of dharmatā

You are not daunted by the waves of relative truth;

With genuine penetrating insight,

You fly the banner of self-existing
HŪṂ.

When you fly in the space of bliss and emptiness

Your bearing is that of a white garuḍa;

You are not daunted by extreme views;

As you soar, all appearances are the hundred dances of dharmakāya.

When you reside in the palace of the Practice Lineage

Your bearing is that of Vajradhara;

You sing the songs of mahāmudrā;

The three worlds are filled with holders of the ultimate lineage.

When you are in the highlands of fearlessness

Your bearing is that of a high glacier peak;

The snowstorm of wisdom is all-pervasive;

You court the white clouds of compassion.

When you roam in the jungle of saṃsāra

Your bearing is that of a tiger;

You bite off the head of the beast of ego-fixation;

You consume the innards of hope and fear.

Remembering your bearing, father,

I, your son, wake from a dream into bliss and emptiness.

This gaṇacakra of supreme mahāmudrā—

How delightful is this glorious perpetual enjoyment!

May this song of one taste, the music of realization,

Liberate the beings of the three worlds.

The Spontaneous Song of Entering into the Blessings and Profound Samaya of the Only Father Guru

Śrī Heruka, the unchanging vajra mind,

The primordial buddha, all-pervading, the protector of all,

Padma Tri-me, you are the lord, the embodiment of all the victorious ones.

You are always reflected in the clear mirror of my mind.

In the space of innate ground mahāmudrā,

The dance of the self-luminous vajra queen takes place,

And passion and aggression, the movements of the mind, become the wheel of wisdom;

What joy it is to see the great ultimate maṇḍala!

The confidence of the unflinching youthful warrior flourishes,

Cutting the aortas of the degraded three lords of materialism

And dancing the sword dance of penetrating insight;

This is the blessing of my only father guru.

Inviting the rays of the waxing moon, Vajra Avalokiteśvara,

The tide of the ocean of compassion swells,

Your only son, Chökyi Gyatso, blossoms as a white lotus;

This is due to the limitless buddha activity of my guru.

In the vast space of mahāśunyatā, devoid of all expression,

The wings of simplicity and luminosity spread

As the snake-knot of conceptual mind uncoils in space;

Only father guru, I can never repay your kindness.

Alone, following the example of the youthful son of the victorious ones,

Riding the chariot of the limitless six pāramitās,

Inviting infinite sentient beings as passengers,

Raising the banner of the magnificent bodhisattvas,

I continue as your heir, my only father guru.

Like a mountain, without the complexities of movement,

I meditate in the nature of the seven vajras,

Subjugating Rudra with the hundred rays of deva, mantra, and mudrā,

Beating the victory drum of the great secret vajrayāna,

I fulfill the wishes of my only father, the authentic guru.

In the sky of dharmadhātu, which exhausts the conventions of the nine yānas,

Gathering rainclouds thick with the blessings of the ultimate lineage,

Roaring the thunder of relentless crazy wisdom,

Bringing down the rain that cools the hot anguish of the dark age,

As I transform existence into a heavenly wheel of dharma,

Please, my only father, authentic guru, come as my guest.

The Dohā of Sadness

The rain of the jñāna-amṛta of the ultimate lineage,

Always uncorrupted, you skillfully bestow upon my heart.

The only father guru, remembering you constantly,

I, Chögyam, your little son, remain in sadness.

In devotion firm as an unchanging mountain,

Truly seeing you alone as the Buddha,

Free from conventions of young or old,

In foreign lands, in sadness, with reverence,

I survive by the amṛta of your blessings.

In the spotless mirror of mind,

Enjoying the dance of self-liberated yogic discipline,

Listening to the sad dohā,

I, Chögyam, the little child, am dying of sadness.

Tormented by the hot rays of the fire of passion,

Having completely burned up the fuel of ālaya,

I have exhausted grasping for sophistries of liberation and confusion.

Isn’t this the kindness of the only father guru.

By the sharp blade of the weapon of aggression,

Thoroughly piercing the fixation of mind,

I have discovered the nature of penetrating insight;

My only father, you are very kind.