Advice from me to Myself

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Patrul Rinpoche Advice from Me to Myself Vajrasattva, sole deity,

Master, You sit on a full-moon lotus-cushion of white light In the

hundred-petalled full bloom of youth. Think of me, Vajrasattva, You

who remain unmoved within the manifest display That is Mahamudra,

pure bliss-emptiness. Listen up, old bad-karma Patrul, You

dweller-in-distraction. For ages now you've been Beguiled, entranced,

and fooled by appearances. Are you aware of that? Are you? Right this

very instant, when you're Under the spell of mistaken perception

You've got to watch out. Don't let yourself get carried away by this

fake and empty life.

 

Your mind is spinning around About carrying out a lot of useless

projects: It's a waste! Give it up! Thinking about the hundred plans

you want to accomplish, With never enough time to finish them, Just

weighs down your mind. You're completely distracted By all these

projects, which never come to an end, But keep spreading out more,

like ripples in water. Don't be a fool: for once, just sit tight.

Listening to the teachings—you've already heard hundreds of

teachings, But when you haven't grasped the meaning of even one

teaching, What's the point of more listening? Reflecting on the

teachings—even though you've listened, If the teachings aren't coming

to mind when needed, What's the point of more reflection? None.

Meditating according to the teachings— If your meditation practice

still isn't curing The obscuring states of mind—forget about it!

You've added up just how many mantras you've done— But you aren't

accomplishing the kyerim visualizatiion. You may get the forms of

deities nice and clear— But you're not putting an end to subject and

object. You may tame what appear to be evil spirits and ghosts, But

you're not training the stream of your own mind. Your four fine

sessions of sadhana practice, So meticulously arranged— Forget about

them. When you're in a good mood, Your practice seems to have lots of

clarity— But you just can't relax into it. When you're depressed, Your

practice is stable enough But there's no brilliance to it. As for

awareness, You try to force yourself into a rigpa-like state, As if

stabbing a stake into a target! When those yogic positions and gazes

keep your mind stable Only by keeping mind tethered— Forget about

them! Giving high-sounding lectures Doesn't do your mind-stream any

good. The path of analytical reasoning is precise and acute— But it's

just more delusion, good for nothing goat-shit. The oral instructions

are very profound But not if you don't put them into practice.

Reading over and over those dharma texts That just occupy your mind

and make your eyes sore— Forget about it! You beat your little damaru

drum—ting, ting— And your audience thinks it's charming to hear.

You're reciting words about offering up your body, But you still

haven't stopped holding it dear. You're making your little cymbals go

cling, cling— Without keeping the ultimate purpose in mind. All this

dharma-practice equipment That seems so attractive— Forget about it!

Right now, those students are all studying so very hard, But in the

end, they can't keep it up. Today, they seem to get the idea, But

later on, there's not a trace left. Even if one of them manages to

learn a little, He rarely applies his "learning" to his own conduct.

Those elegant dharma disciplines— Forget about them! This year, he

really cares about you, Next year, it's not like that. At first, he

seems modest, Then he grows exalted and pompous. The more you nurture

and cherish him, The more distant he grows. These dear friends Who

show such smiling faces to begin with— Forget about them! Her smile

seems so full of joy— But who knows if that's really the case? One

time, it's pure pleasure, Then it's nine months of mental pain. It

might be fine for a month, But sooner or later, there's trouble.

People teasing; your mind embroiled— Your lady-friend— Forget about

her! These endless rounds of conversation Are just attachment and

aversion— It's just more goat-shit, good for nothing at all. At the

time it seems marvellously entertaining, But really, you're just

spreading around stories about other people's mistakes. Your audience

seems to be listening politely, But then they grow embarrassed for

you. Useless talk that just make you thirsty— Forget about it! Giving

teachings on meditation texts Without yourself having Gained actual

experience through practice, Is like reciting a dance-manual out loud

And thinking that's the same as actually dancing. People may be

listening to you with devotion, But it just isn't the real thing.

Sooner or later, when your own actions Contradict the teachings,

you'll feel ashamed. Just mouthing the words, Giving dharma

explanations that sound so eloquent— Forget about it! When you don't

have a text, you long for it; Then when you've finally gotten it, you

hardly look at it. The number of pages seems few enough, But it's a

bit hard to find time to copy them all. Even if you copied down all

the dharma texts on earth, You wouldn't be satisfied. Copying down

texts is a waste of time (Unless you get paid)— So forget about it!

Today, they're happy as clams— Tomorrow, they're furious. With all

their black moods and white moods, People are never satisfied. Or

even if they're nice enough, They may not come through when you

really need them, Disappointing you even more. All this politeness,

keeping up a Courteous demeanor— Forget about it! Worldly and

religious work Is the province of gentlemen. Patrul, old boy—that's

not for you. Haven't you noticed what always happens? An old bull,

once you've gone to the trouble of borrowing him for his services,

Seems to have absolutely no desire left in him at all— (Except to go

back to sleep). Be like that—desireless. Just sleep, eat, piss, shit.

There's nothing else in life that has to be done. Don't get involved

with other things: They're not the point. Keep a low profile, Sleep.

In the triple universe When you're lower than your company You should

take the low seat. Should you happen to be the superior one, Don't get

arrogant. There's no absolute need to have close friends; You're

better off just keeping to yourself. When you're without any worldly

or religious obligations, Don't keep on longing to acquire some! If

you let go of everything— Everything, everything— That's the real

point!

This advice was written by the practitioner Trime Lodro (Patrul

Rinpoche) for his intimate friend Ahu Shri (Patrul Rinpoche), in

order to give advice that is tailored exactly to his capacities. This

advice should be put into practice. Even though you don't know how to

practice, just let go of everything—that's what I really want to say.

Even though you aren't able to succeed in your dharma practice. don't

get angry. May it be virtuous.

Patrul Rinpoche (1808-1887) was the wandering turn-of-the-century

Dzogchen master of Eastern Tibet, beloved by the people. He was

renowned as the enlightened vagabond.

Translation by Constance Wilkinson Many questions about the text were

clarified according to the extremely kind explanations of the Chogyal

Namkhai Norbu Rinpoche, during his stay in New York City, and

according to the detailed explanations of Khenpo, Rigdzin Dorje of

the Nyingmapa Shedra, Bansbari, Kathmandu, Nepal. Thanks to Matthieu

Ricard of Shechen Tennyi Dargyeling, and to Anne Burchardi of the

Marpa institute of Translation for their advice toward trying to make

this translation faithful to both the letter and spirit of the

original Tibetan. All errors and misunderstandings are those of the

translator. May this poem, despite all shortcomings of its

translation, serve to benefit beings. Sarva Mangalam. Conselhos de

mim para mim mesmo (Portuguese)

 

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