THE Sanity We Are Born With A BUDDHIST APPROACH TO PSYCHOLOGY Chögyam Trungpa Compiled and edited by Carolyn Rose Gimian Forewords by Daniel Goleman and Kidder Smith SHAMBHALA Boston & London 2010 Shambhala Publications, Inc. Horticultural Hall 300 Massachusetts Avenue Boston, Massachusetts 02115 www.shambhala.com © 2005 by Diana J. Mukpo Editor’s Introduction © 2005 by Carolyn Rose Gimian Foreword by Daniel Goleman © 2005 by Daniel Goleman Foreword by Kidder Smith © 2005 by Kidder Smith For further copyright information, see the “Sources” section. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher. Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Trungpa, Chögyam, 1939– The sanity we are born with: a Buddhist approach to psychology / Chögyam Trungpa; compiled and edited by Carolyn Rose Gimian. p. cm. eISBN 978-0-8348-2127-9 ISBN 978-1-59030-090-9 1. Buddhism—Psychology. I. Gimian, Carolyn Rose. II. Title. BQ4570.P76T78 2005 294.3′01′9—dc22 2004056509 CONTENTS Foreword by Daniel Goleman Foreword by Kidder Smith Editor’s Introduction Prelude The Meeting of Buddhist and Western Psychology Part One M EDITATION 1 Taming the Horse, Riding the Mind 2 Discovering Basic Goodness 3 The Four Foundations of Mindfulness 4 An Approach to Meditation: A Talk to Psychologists 5 Natural Dharma Part Two M IND 6 Mind: The Open Secret 7 The Spiritual Battlefield 8 The Birth of Ego 9 The Development of Ego 10 The Basic Ground and the Eight Consciousnesses 11 Intellect 12 The Six Realms 13 The Five Buddha Families Part Three P SYCHOLOGY 14 Becoming a Full Human Being 15 Creating an Environment of Sanity 16 Attitude toward Death in the Healer-Patient Relationship 17 Intrinsic Health: A Conversation with Health Professionals 18 Maitri Space Awareness in a Buddhist Therapeutic Community 19 From a Workshop on Psychotherapy 20 Is Meditation Therapy? Notes Glossary Sources Acknowledgments Further Readings by Chögyam Trungpa Resources A Biography of Chögyam Trungpa Index FOREWORD Daniel Goleman THE YEAR WAS 1975, the setting a restaurant in Cambridge, Massachusetts. Chögyam Trungpa Rinpoche had invited me out to dinner to tell me about his plans for a new educational institution he was founding, Naropa Institute. At one point in the conversation he leaned across the table toward me with a conspiratorial air, looked me straight in the eye, and said emphatically, “Buddhism will come to the West as a psychology.” That proposition made immediate sense to me. I had recently received my doctorate in psychology from Harvard, and returned there as a visiting lecturer after a year of postdoctoral study in Sri Lanka and India. My topic was abhidharma, an ancient Buddhist theory of mind that has been in continual use as an applied psychology for the last fifteen hundred years or more. Of course, I had never heard of this system in any of my academic psychology studies. The implicit assumption (culture-bound and flavored with hubris though it may be) was that the field of psychology had begun only a century before, in Europe and America—none of my psychology professors had ever heard of abhidharma. I took Rinpoche’s observation to mean that Western students of psychology would soon be hearing whispers of abhidharma that might inspire them to pursue further study of Buddhism. Indeed, he sprinkled his teachings with nuggets from this rich psychological mine, offering practical hints on everything from one’s state of mind while diapering the baby to transforming aggression. Trungpa Rinpoche was among the very first to offer such glimpses to a Western audience, sometimes casually interspersing these into a discussion and sometimes discoursing on them at great length. This volume does a great favor for Western readers who want to understand the view Buddhist psychology takes of the human condition, pulling together a lifetime of insights on the subject by one of its most articulate teachers. Buddhism, like Western thought, harbors multiple schools of philosophy and psychology of mind. Several of these are represented here, though there are still more awaiting exploration by those readers who find themselves intrigued. Chögyam Trungpa offers us a rich banquet, with many inviting, intriguing, and delicious glimpses into these Buddhist perspectives on our mind and life. FOREWORD Kidder Smith PERHAPS IT’S A SHOCKING THOUGHT, that we are all born sane. But the Buddhist tradition goes further still, declaring that we are actually sane right now. Whatever confusions we experience, whatever doubts or anxieties may arise, at the base of all this, in the midst of all this, our fundamental sanity is always present. We might say that this book seeks to demonstrate how such an outrageous claim can be true. But actually this book provides a means for you, the reader, to determine its truth for yourself. That means is meditation. As Trungpa Rinpoche says, meditation is “a way of clarifying the actual nature of mind.” Insofar as psychology is the study of mind, meditation offers us a psychological practice that is uniquely intimate. It is not someone else’s experience we are studying, it is our own. And yet, as we will see, meditation takes us into the same intimacy with other beings that we have with ourselves. What is mind? Everything. We get a hint of that in the way our experience is continuous. Even in deepest sleep our mind is active, aware, processing. When we meditate, attending consciously to mind, it never abandons us, never runs out or expires. Not only is our consciousness abundantly wall-to-wall, it actually is those walls, and everything imaginable or unimaginable lying beyond them. There is no end to this, nor exit from it. When we plan our escape, it is already taking place in mind. When we reach our destination, we are here in mind as well. All we know is mind. It creates our world. “By meditating, we are dealing with the very mind that devised our eyeglasses and put the lenses in the rims, and the very mind that put up this tent. Our coming here is the product of our minds. . . . So this is a living world, mind’s world. Realizing this, working with mind is no longer a remote or mysterious thing to do. It is no longer dealing with something that is hidden or somewhere else. Mind is right here. Mind is hanging out in the world. It is an open secret.” Unhidden, omnipresent, not elsewhere, endless, that’s quite a lot. So when we seek to work with mind, we need a discipline that is equally vast—and utterly simple. Otherwise it’s like trying to devise an elaborate set of china platters, pewter flagons, and silver utensils for serving up the whole world. There would never be enough of them the right shape, nor could the world ever fit comfortably inside. Actually, all we need is one very, very big flat plate. Meditation is that open plate; it accommodates everything. Thus in chapter after chapter, Trungpa Rinpoche returns us to simplicity. All we need to do is just sit here on the earth. We breathe. We give bare attention to that breath. As we settle into doing nothing much, we start bumping into our thought processes. At first we may notice only their valences of like, dislike, or neutrality. But as we become more familiar with this way of attending, we begin to sense the subtler and more complex dynamics of mind. Several chapters in Part Two of this book address these matters: the eight consciousnesses, the six realms, the five buddha families, and so on. Here the practice of psychology means recognizing these patterns as they begin to show themselves, like seascapes at the bottom of an ocean when the winds subside. Even before we start noticing that clarity, Trungpa Rinpoche urges us further into the ungainly: “Don’t be afraid of being a fool; start as a fool. The techniques of meditation practice are not designed to reduce active thoughts at all. They provide a way of coming to terms with everything that goes on inside. . . . When we begin to find the spiky quality in ourselves, we see it as antispirituality and try to push it away. This is the biggest mistake of all in working with our basic psychological patterns.” Here the psychotherapist meets her first client: herself. In the practice of sitting meditation, she has no compulsion to reduce, alter, or reject anything or anyone. All are welcome. All are simply thoughts. They manifest in varying intensity or appeal, and endless flavors, but their nature is always the same. They are only “that, that, that.” Sitting with this nameless “that,” doing nothing whatsoever, allowing the mystery that we are to arise, arise, arise, something finally becomes obvious. The thoughts that seem to perpetuate our existence and define our being are pretty flimsy things. When we peer directly at them, trying to catch hold for a closer look, they melt right out from under us, evaporate into nothing. We have accomplished nothing: the thoughts dissolve on their own, without our even looking at them. We could not preserve them even if we wished. But now that we have experienced their utter transitoriness, they have yielded up the secret of their instantaneous mortality. Their persuasiveness is never quite the same. From that recognition it is possible to relax into our native gentleness. Since we do not experience our mind as threatening, we can, as Trungpa Rinpoche often says, make friends with ourselves. That friendship is the basis for all relatedness. In particular, it is the model for the conduct of psychotherapy: “This means working first of all with our natural capacity for warmth. To begin with, we can develop warmth toward ourselves, which then expands to others. This provides the ground for relating with disturbed people, with one another, and with ourselves, all within the same framework. . . . Patients should experience a sense of wholesomeness vibrating from you. . . . Therapy has to be based on mutual appreciation. . . . You have to cut your own impatience and learn to love people. That is how to cultivate basic healthiness in others.” This recognition of our basic healthiness is what distinguishes Buddhist psychology from all others I have encountered. Through the practice of sitting meditation, kerplunk in the midst of watching our thoughts dissolve, in our very inability to sustain a storyline about ourselves or anything else, we come, obliquely or directly, to something that was always there. Trungpa Rinpoche calls it basic goodness. It is also known as buddha nature, primordial purity, the true nature of mind, the essence of dharma. It is the sanity we are born with. I think many of us come to psychology because we feel that something, somehow, must be wrong. Our curiosity about the human mind is not unmotivated. Though we may be repelled by the concept of original sin, the experience of our own mental states has not yet conclusively ruled it out. But the practice of meditation, with its fearless investigation and unconditional acceptance of all forms of consciousness, carries us ineluctably to a deeper knowledge. We actually experience the fundamental purity of mind, of our minds. This is not faith or doctrine, nor can we produce it if we try. But neither can we miss it when it rises up within our experience. And gradually we may develop confidence in its constant presence, the way we know our lungs will find air to breathe, in and out, in and out. It requires no thought of us. At this point we can no longer maintain that we, or any others, are wounded at our core. Indeed, “the world that we live in is fabulous. It is utterly workable. . . . We should realize that there is no passion, aggression, or ignorance existing in what we see. . . . Whatever we do is sacred.” This fabulous sacredness means that Buddhist psychology has no sense of cure or healing. In fairy tales the kissed frog transforms into a prince. But in Buddhism the frog is crowned as a frog. Our lily pad is a royal seat. “You realize