The other day, I had a checkup on my eyesight. Four years ago, it was 70
degrees, this eye (Rinpoche points to his right eye), now it is 170 degrees. What
does this tell me? It means I am on my way home. The Lord of Death, Yama, is
issuing me a warning letter, “You are already on your way home.” These are signals to us that we are getting
old and going home. Are we prepared for this journey?
If we go overseas to work and the time for our job is nearly up, we should have
some savings to show for the time spent overseas. That way, we can use it on our
needs back home. If there are no savings
at all, then these few decades of our life have been a complete waste of all our
toil and hardship, we only return home empty-handed.
Similarly, we have come to this human birth once with all its precious
opportunities for Dharma practice and attaining liberation. We can make sure that
we take rebirth in the pureland and attain Buddhahood. But our lives lacks a
clarity of purpose; we are surrounded by negative influences, negative friends
or negative teachers who steer us towards worldly attachments such as
reputation, benefits, position etc. We
bet our entire lives on these plans. When it is time to face death, when we
look back over our lives, all we have to show for it is nothing.
Look at people who are dying, even their bodies are left behind. Look at the
kind of fear and suffering they go through; these will befall us definitely. No
one can run away from this outcome. Whether it is a baby that was just born
today or an old man in his 80s, we all walk the same path to death.
The person in the highest position will die in exactly the same way as a beggar.
No matter who you are, death is your only fate. Death is extremely fair. A
person of high stature will also go through the bardo, whatever negative karma
you create will ripen on you just the same.
Milarepa said that watching the way a sinful person dies is the greatest
teacher, why? Because the torture and suffering they go through reminds us of
the inevitability of death and how much suffering it entails. When we look at the
death of a practitioner, we also witness the power of Dharma.
In Yarchen monastery, there was an old Lama in his 70s. He stayed in Yarchen
monastery for more than 2 years, less than 3 years. He was my neighbour. I often had my meals at
his home, he gave me food. One afternoon, he told me to come in and said, “I will
be passing away tonight.” He did not even have a cold, he was perfectly healthy. He was in the middle of receiving the full
teachings on Dzogchen, he had not completed Togal practice yet. He told me, “I am going to leave tonight, you
must go to Lama Achuk Rinpoche tonight and inform him. Guru will take care of
the necessary arrangements from tomorrow onwards. Do not tell anyone else.”
I wondered if this old man was slightly absurd as he was healthy without even so much as a
cough. He made buns for me and we had a meal together. He said, “This is our
last meal together. After this, I can’t help you anymore. You have to find your
own meals.” This old lama had always made meals for me. I was very poor when I was
younger. After my meditation sessions, I would look for rising smoke from the
chimneys and just pop by anyone’s place to ask for a meal. I was pretty
thick-skinned. Even if they don’t give me food, I would still stand by waiting.
In the end, I would eat whatever they gave me. I had no food in my own house.
This old man often gave me food as he was better off. He also divided his possessions up, telling
me, “This portion is for the monastery, this is for Lama Achuk Rinpoche, this pot
is for you.” When I reached home, I thought about it. Sometimes, it is said that practitioners
cannot be judged outwardly. As the saying goes, “One never knows who is a thief
and who is a Bodhisattva.” The thief will not admit he is a thief and the
Bodhisattva will not tell others about it either. So, I thought that anything is possible, and
went to Guru at around 7pm or 8pm to inform him of what happened.
Guru said, “It is true, he will leave tonight. You should follow his
instructions. Lock the door. Tomorrow, go there and make the water and lamp
offerings, don’t let anyone else into the house. Only you can go in.”
When I returned home, I thought, “The lama is sitting there by himself, will he really die? I have locked the door from outside, if he can’t come out from
his house, won’t it be troublesome?” I sat on the roof of my house that night, it
was very cold, about minus 20-30 degrees in the winter. I kept waiting, then changed the water and
lamp offerings, then continued waiting… up till around 2 or 3am. A Dharma brother said, “Why are you sitting
up there for such a long time, your ears would be frost-bitten.”
But I was just afraid of locking the old lama in if he did not die. I peeked secretly in his window while I changed
the water offerings. The lama was just sitting there quietly without moving. I could
make out his silhouette through the window.
Seven days later, I exited my meditation session when the conch was blown. Guru
came, bringing Asang Tulku Rinpoche and another monk with him. Guru told me to
unlock the door and to light the lamps. I did as was told and looked at the
lama who was just sitting there with his head slightly downwards. Guru did some prayers with the bell and vajra,
and upon concluding, the Lama’s head drooped down completely and the white and red
fluid flowed out of his nostrils. (Rinpoche gestured at his left nostril when
saying that the blood flowed out.) These are the red and white Bodhichitta
fluids, a sign of attaining Buddhahood.
The body had been there for seven days in minus 20 plus degrees, but it looked
healthy, was soft and remained warm at the arm-pit regions. I was there
personally handling the corpse.
If you practice Dharma properly, you can achieve this. Why can’t we achieve
this? Due to a lack of determination and a one-pointed mind. You can’t let go of reputation, benefits,
position, relatives. You are entangled by problems of wealth and possessions.
Due to this, your mind is tied up and unable to practice. Or you are always
clinging to your children or family.
These are your constraints.
