My Goodbye
དགོང་དྲོ་བདེ་ལེགས། (Good Evening) villagers,
Unfortunately this will be the last time I am writing to all of you about my life and the incidents within our small but fortunate Tibetan village. My quest as an amchi at the Pemakochung monastery has finally come to an end. I have learned a great deal, as you can tell from my previous writings, and I have our community, my role as an amchi in our village, and the monastery to thank. I am a better Buddhist practitioner today because of all of these contributing factors. But, before I go onto another venture that I must fulfill in my life, I am obliged to tell you all about a final event that has happened to me in our village. I hope that just as you have all touched my life, directed me and taught me to be a better Buddhist through adversity that what I am about to share with you will provide the same function for you.
To begin, what happened to me a few nights ago has changed my life forever. I can no longer view the world the way I use to, ignorant to reality and the repercussions of our negative actions through the karmic cycle of rebirth. Of course, we all tend to get caught up in trivial possessions, objects, experiences etc. that appear to be more significant than they are and unfortunately, forget the ultimate existence and ultimate reality of the cosmos. But, after this tangible and physical experience, I will never be able to go through life thinking in that way. I will never get upset for wishing we had more food in our village, or indulge in contempt for others or cause division among people. From now on, I will act only in the ways that will ensure myself to be reincarnated in the next life as a deva. But, I will not do this for selfish reasons but because that is what deserves to be put outward into the cosmos. Not negativity. I say all of this because a few nights ago, I had a lucid dream of shortly living in each of the Eight Great Narakas depicted in Buddhist doctrine. And, I remain scarred from this incredibly vivid experience.
In one moment, I was laying in my tiny wood bed at the Pemakochung monastery and in the next, I found myself in one of the Eight Great Narakas; the first one being the Sanjiva. I tried to run but I could not escape the men chasing me. I kept feeling immense pain in my abdomen from a sword piercing straight through my body and then falling to the ground in agony. But, a moment later, I would wake up and still find myself in Sanjiva, still trying to run away from these men chasing me. This kept happening to me. I cannot count the amount of times I felt the piercing pain and felt my blood slowly escape my body as I fell to the floor. It was a terrible experience. According to doctrine on the realms of rebirth, men are reborn here because “of greed, delusion, fear or anger, kill living creatures, or having reared them, slaughter them” (Lopez 2004, 5). As a result, these men are born in Sanjiva, one of the Eight Great Narakas, where they are killed again and again for many years to come (Lopez 2004).
Eventually, I woke up in a different place. But regrettably, this situation was not any better. In this place, burning saws that were hastily moving towards my very tender body surrounded me. I tried to fight it but I could not out run the inevitable. There really are no words to explain what it feels like for your own flesh to be split like wood by a burning saw. Even the most horrendous words I can currently think of do not do this amount of pain justice. After doing my research once the dream ended, I learned that this hell is known as Kalasutta and men are reborn in this hell if they “show enmity to their friends, including mother, father and dear ones, who are slanderers and liars” (Lopez 2004, 5).
After this, my body was “lifted” (I use this word loosely since it felt as if I was being lifted by a supreme force from one hell to another) and placed into the Sanghata hell. I did not spend a great deal of time in this hell. The moment I “landed” in this hell, I was completely crushed. In a blink of an eye my body became like a piece of gum on concrete and I did not feel a thing. Buddhist doctrine holds that “men who kill goats, rams, jackals and so on, hares, rats, deer and boar and other living beings” end up in this hell (Lopez 2004, 6).
A few seconds later, I suddenly regained feeling in my limbs and noticed that I once again had my form. But, I was in another hell realm. Very quickly flames surged about around me and it became scorching hot. I felt myself start to bake like a cake in the oven. My skin started to boil and completely peel off my body and all I could hear was my own self emit this terrible howl of pain. Shortly after, I lost my vision and everything went blank. I learned after this that “those men who cause torment of body and mind to creatures and who are cheats” (Lopez 2004, 6) are sent to Roruva to receive similar treatment.
My experience with fire did not end there. I woke up again in what seemed like the exact same hell. Except, the fire-torment was even worse, if one can imagine that. This hell is known as the Great Roruva since it surpasses Roruva in its fire-torment. Individuals “who take the property of devas, brahmans and gurus, by causing suffering to them even, as well as those who steal what was entrusted to them” (Lopez 2004, 6) end up in this hell. There is not much else to say on this experience since it was even worse than my illustration of Roruva above (Lopez 2004).
I did not last that long in the next hell that I was brought to. When I woke up, I was immediately on fire. There was nowhere to run to and nowhere to turn that was not covered in continuous burning flames. It all happened so fast and before I knew it, I was reborn in the next hell. In Buddhist doctrine “whoever burns creatures in conflagrations such as forest fires, that person, wailing, is consumed by fire in Tapana” (Lopez 2004, 7). But, the next hell had even more fierce continuous flames everywhere. The flames were even greater than that of Tapana and it is for this reason that it is called Patapana. According to Buddhist doctrine, “the nihilist who asserts perversely that the dhamma is non-dhamma (that is, that the truth is untruth) and whoever torments being is consumed by fire” and will be reborn in the greatest burning hell of all (Lopez 2004, 7).
After, I was reborn into the last hell of the Eight Great Narakas, known as Avici. In this realm, my body was, from what I can imagine, entirely disintegrated into ash. Even my bones melted because of the heat from the dreadful fires and there is absolutely no freedom from the incredible amounts of pain or no intermission for a little bit of comfort (Lopez 2004). “Those beings showing enmity to those of greater virture, slaying disciplines and also mother, father, teacher” are reborn into the greatest of all hells, the hell without Intermission (Lopez 2004, 7).
I hope my explanations of what I experienced in my lucid dreams in these Eight Great Narakas give you some sort of realistic representation of how they really are. It is certainly one thing to experience them but quite tricky to fully explain the complexity involved in each realm and the feelings felt. I know I may not have entirely done this part justice but I hope that you all can gain a bit of insight into the veracity of the Eight Great narakas from a real life experience.
The day following this astoundingly vivid dream I could not stop thinking about the purpose of dreams in Buddhist thought and dogma. I felt as if there had to be a reason why I had this lucid dream involving this particular subject. Therefore, I sought answers from the monks at the Pemakochung monastery on lucid dreaming, the wheel of life and the six realms of existence.
As reported by the monks at the Pemakochung monastery, dreams have a significant place in Tibetan culture since ancient times. Dream practice has especially played an important role in medical analysis and mind training in Tibet. As an Amchi, I found this incredibly intriguing since anything to aid in my medical practice is worth knowing. In ancient Tibet, Bon faith healers or ancient Shamans used dreams as a way to not only diagnose diseases but also understand relationships between spirits and humans. In the medical practice, dream interpretations and omens were used as a diagnosis to explain any illnesses of the body or mind (Wangyal and Dahlby 2004). Moreover, it is believed by many Amchi’s, even up until today, that the dream experienced by the Buddhist practitioner is a reflection of the mind’s journey inside their own body. Medical practitioners use this information and interpret the dream in order to understand the individual’s internal state regarding their mind and body. Once this is accomplished, they usually use their findings to diagnose and cure their patients. It is definitely a quite fascinating process that I have never taken into account prior to this lucid dreaming experience of my own (Wangyal and Dahlby 2004).
The monks at the monastery also gave me a lot of information about what dreams represent in tantric Buddhism specifically. In tantra, dreams are considered an illusion but an illusion similar to the Bardo state, or also known as, intermediate state that is experienced by a Buddhist practitioner after their death. Once an individual dies, their consciousness enters a state called Bardo. Depending on the individual’s karma, this state can last anywhere between a few minutes to a maximum of 49 days. During this bardo state, the dream-like mental body views a world of colours, sounds, lights etc and experiences it as if they are going trough nightmares or adventures in a dream (Norbu 1992). Due to this dream-like state, it is vey hard for the consciousness to recognize that they actually died. This is how the dream state and the bardo state are similar. In both states, we feel mostly normal with a body, surroundings and life that looks very real. Everything we experience in these states is perceived as external factors instead of fabrications of our minds. Due to this obvious similarity between the bardo state and dreams, tantric Buddhist practice started to use dreams as a way to spiritually transform the mind in training called dream yoga. In dream yoga, the practitioner prepares their mind and consciousness to recognize the illusory states in the dreams in order to better prepare them for the moment of death (Norbu 1992).
The last thing that I needed to have answered was why did I have a dream about the Eight Great Narakas? Why not about the color of the sky or the heat of the sun? The monks gave me an explanation found in Tantra but were also very perplexed by the meaning behind this dream. As stated in Tantra, any colour that appears in a persons dream may be related to the humors, elements and also the directions of the body that are undertaken by the mind and consciousness during a dream. In this way, the body is almost like a mandala. All elements are stuck in their permanent positions and our consciousness and mind visit these places while we are asleep. As our consciousness visits these places, the dream is influenced by the reflection of the humors and elements. So, if we use this as a general theory, our dreams may be an indication of a disease or some sort of sickness, whether it be very minor or very serious. For example, a vibrant red colour or a vision including fires can show a Bile disorder sign (Wangyal and Dahliby 2004). After learning this, I am starting to think that my body is trying to tell me something serious. My dream included things like being sawed into pieces and burned alive. Fire and blood as red as you can imagine were major points in my dream. Before I jump to any conclusions, I am going on a quest to visit the most knowledgeable tantric master in Tibet. It is for this reason that I can no longer write to you and be a part of the village. I must go on this quest in order to better understand the internal workings of my body.
I hope after I finally reach this master, he tells me that I had my dream about the Eight Great Narakas because of my obsession with the wheel of life, especially since it is at the front of the Pemakochung monastery. Every time I leave for my daily walk, I view it on my way into the monastery. If my mind kept contemplating the wheel of life due to these visual triggers, it would make sense for me to dream about the Eight Great Narakas since they complement each other. The wheel of life depicts how an individual enters samsara and how that same individual can be released from it and obtain liberation. It is divided into six sections to represent the life in the six realms of rebirth, one of these realms obviously being the hell realms that have haunted my dreams. There is a central nucleus which is surrounded by a cock representing desire, a snake representing hatred and anger, and a pig representing ignorance. The six realms are laid out around this central nucleus. Around the circumference of the wheel is a rim that is divided into twelve sections, depicting the twelve links of dependent origination. Yama, the lord of death stands behind the wheel grasping it ever so tightly. At his navel, you can find the central hub of the three poisons known as ignorance, desire and hatred. In some accounts, Yama holds up the wheel of life to the person at their moment of death. The wheel acts like a mirror that reflects the possible realms of rebirth for that individual’s dying consciousness depending on their karma (Rinpoche 1998).
Anyways, I have gone on long enough discussing my life altering experience of lucid dreaming and the role of lucid dreaming in Buddhism. If any of you have had similar dreams or dreams that have shaken you to your core, you are more than welcome to come along with me to find this knowledgeable tantric master. I am more than happy to share this experience and knowledge with the villagers that I have become so fond of.
For the last time,
Remember to keep a pure mind!
Dainin Daeshim
References
Buddhist Scriptures 2004, ed. Donald S. Lopez. London: Penguin
Norbu, N. (1992). In Katz M. (Ed.), Dream yoga and the practice of natural light. Ithaca, New York: Snow Lion Publications.
Rinpoche, Patrul. (1998). The words of my perfect teacher (revised ed). Toronto:AltaMira Press.
Wangyal, T., & Dahlby, M. (2004). The tibetan yogas of dream and sleep Motilal Banarsidass Pub.
