The Art of Purring (The Dalai Lama's Cat 2)

“If anyone ever says to you, ‘Ah, mind is just brain,’ then ask them, ‘Please tell me where memories are stored.’ They will have to admit to you, ‘We do not know.’ Despite many years of research and much money, scientists have never discovered where in the brain memories are stored. They never will because they are not stored physically! Scientists have done experiments on animals, destroying parts of the brain that they thought contained memory. But the animals could still remember. Neuroscientists, psychologists, philosophers—they all have their ideas about mind. But an idea is just an idea, just a concept. It isn’t the thing itself. If we want to know what mind really is, we must experience it firsthand. Directly.”

“In meditation?”

“Of course. Some people are frightened to do this. They worry that if they experience a mind free of thought, somehow they will cease to exist. They will disappear in a puff of smoke!” He smiled. “But thoughts are just thoughts. They arise, abide, and pass. When we are able to settle in pristine awareness, free from the thought that has just gone and the one that will arise, we can see our own mind for ourselves. We experience its qualities. Just because it’s hard to describe those qualities doesn’t mean that the mind doesn’t have any.”

Serena looked puzzled. “What do you mean?”

“Can you really describe the qualities of chocolate? You can say it is sweet and melts in the mouth and comes in different flavors, but these are just ideas—just concepts pointing to something that is not conceptual in nature. In the same way, we can describe the mind as boundless, radiant, serene, all knowing, loving, and compassionate in nature. But again”—he shrugged—“these are mere words. Verbal fiction.”

“I suppose most of us think of body and mind as just this,” Serena said, gesturing toward her physical form.

Yogi Tarchin nodded. “Yes. It is a tragic misunderstanding to have such self-limiting beliefs, to think that you are nothing but a bag of bones, rather than boundless consciousness; to believe that death is an ending, not a transition. Worst of all is not to realize how every action of body, speech, and mind affects your future experience of reality, even beyond this time and this life. Beliefs like these make people waste the opportunities of our very precious human life. Our minds are so much greater than this!”

“All-knowing?” Serena asked.

“We have that potential.”

“Clairvoyant?”

He shrugged. “Some make a big fuss of this. But clairvoyance arises naturally in an unobstructed mind.”

“What about dreams?”

“In a mind that is agitated, untrained, a dream is just a dream—unless you have the good fortune to have a teacher who can reach through this agitation.”

For a moment he stopped stroking me. I turned my head and looked up at him until he resumed.

“If you are a trained person, sleep offers an amazing opportunity. Knowing that you are dreaming when you’re dreaming enables you to control the dream. We can project our consciousness into different realms of experience.”

Yogi Tarchin reflected on the common theme underlying Serena’s questions before asking, “Why such questions about clairvoyance and dream states?”

She looked down at her hands, which were folded in her lap.

“I think, perhaps, there is something else?” he added.

I saw her cheeks color as she glanced at him briefly. “I guess …”

Yogi Tarchin remained silent and perfectly still. The only movement in the room was a silver ribbon of smoke curling lazily upward from a stick of incense burning in the window.

“I got back from Europe just a couple of months ago,” Serena began.

“Yes, yes,” he confirmed, as though well aware of this and urging her to continue.

“My plan was to come home just for a short break. But being here I’ve begun to question my reasons for wanting to return to Europe. I think it would be better, and I could be happier, if I stayed here.” She met his eye.

“Very good,” he said, seeming to affirm the decision.

“But I’m not sure. You see, I’m single. I don’t know if Dharamsala is the place. You don’t meet the kind of people here …”

“I see,” he said gently, after her words trailed off. A sparkle of mischief suddenly played across his face. “You want me to be a fortune-teller?”

Serena’s smile was rueful. Bringing her palms together at her heart she said, “You have qualities …”

“Such prostrating”—he wagged his forefinger—“is not necessary. What arises for you depends on your actions, on the karma and conditions you create.”

“Oh.” Her mouth fell. “I thought it was possible for you to see the lives of others.”

Yogi Tarchin responded to her disappointment. “You have no reason to worry,” he told her.