The Myth vs the Presence of Freedom

"The story is told that Chandrakirti, a famed Mahayana master once fed the monks of his monastery in a time of famine by milking the painting of a cow.  Accepting this story as true we ask: how could he have worked such a miracle?  One answer consistent with the understanding employed by illusion mind, might be that he had mastered the power of alchemy and could turn molecules of air into molecules of milk.  But an answer more true to shunyata is that Chandrakirti had mastered the power of mind - the power of shunyata to shape reality into any form.  When the mind-imposed structure that presents 'milk' and 'painting', 'monks' and 'famine' and ultimately 'Chandrakirti' himself, has never been established, there is absolutely no need for transformation.  The power of maya is freely available."

"The creations of illusion mind are grounded in the fundamental illusion of mind, and both are shunyata.  A thought is born but does not take place; a thought takes place but has already gone.  The distinctions of 'here' and 'gone', 'arising' and 'never-coming-to-be' are all equally available, with complete flexibility.  Seeing this, we see that illusion does not have to leave us deluded."

---Tarthang Tulku, "Milking the Painted Cow'

Freedom is sharp

the curved blade that cuts

head off my neck

and lets heart blood spout

in the manner of a fountain

freedom is tender

            with my arms around you

as if they were feathers

            for the love of the world

I cannot embrace anything called 'other'

freedom is boring

            going to the toilet

to shit and piss

            every morning looking in the mirror

searching for pimples on the nose

freedom is fire

            I hammer the steel of the thoughts

that shackle 'I' 'me' 'mine' and everything

            only to have the acid of fear corrode

these very irons I hold dear

           

freedom is delicate

the dewdrop that falls
from the leaf above

            makes the web tremble

and the spider rope down

             

freedom is despair

            no food before us

with all the good people in chains

            while our leaders spit roast our livers

at their tables of plenty

freedom is desire

never getting

enough of it

when everything

is always there

freedom is sentimental

            these tears stain your pillow with

my so very special situation that I am facing

            head remains stuck in the mud

'I' cannot walk through walls as 'I' never will

freedom is straight and narrow

            deadlines 

timelines

fault lines

            to bring about many a cleansing disasters

freedom is simply free

            no quality but its own

and there is stillness

            leaves unfolding in April

tumble to rot in November

essentially

even stupor is freedom

so is clinging

and so is hate

knowing thus definitely freedom is

naturally self-affirming

projecting more gossamer

subtly trembling luminous threads

I can drink my tea

I can sip my wine

every once in a while

I can look up in the sky

the thought doesn’t abide

that anyone not even being there
will ever not partake

in this heart of presence

and we do not even need to ask

does appreciation

require some separate ONE to be there

to appreciate

Thanking all the guru lamas who have blessed my life & practice 

at the moment of writing this in particular Tarthang Tulku Rinpoche

for never tiring while conveying the liberating presence

given together with all of Time Space and Knowledge

Copyright 2018: Choyin Dorje/Matthias Dehne