THE PLEDGE OF KWAN-YIN
Never will I seek nor receive private, individual salvation;
never will I enter into final peace alone; but forever and
everywhere will I live and strive for the redemption of every
creature throughout the world from the bonds of conditioned
existence.
KWAN-YIN
Unconditional affirmation of the Kwan-Yin pledge can only
come from the unconditional core of the human being. Words are
uttered in time, and usually delimit meaning. They express
thought, but they also obscure thought. To be able to use words
in a manner that reaches beyond limits is to recognize prior to
the utterance and to realize after the utterance that one is
participating only on the plane of that which has a beginning and
an end, though in emulation and celebration of that which is
beginningless and endless. Every word and each day is like an
incarnation. Silence and deep sleep convey an awareness of
duration that cannot be inserted into ordinary time, but indicate
the return to a primal sense of being where one is neither
conditioned by nor identified with external events, memories,
anticipations, likes and dislikes, hopes and fears, possibilities
and limitations. Common speech and ordinary wakefulness, for most
individuals, are but clouded mirrors dimly reflecting the
resonance and radiance of spiritual wakefulness. Any sacred
pledge may be uttered by a human being with a wavering mind and a
fickle heart, but it can also be authentically affirmed in the
name of the larger Self that is far beyond the utterance and the
formulation, yet immanent in both. This is the time-honoured
basis of religious rites, as well as the original source of civil
laws. Emile Durkheim explained how early in the evolution of
societies human beings learnt to transfer the potency of
religious oaths to secular restraints and thereby established a
high degree of reliability in human relationships. Mohandas
Gandhi spoke of the sun, the planets and the mighty Himalayas as
expressing the ultimate reliability of the universe, and taught
that when human beings bind themselves by the power of a vow,
they seek to become wholly reliable. If reliability essentially
connotes a consistent standard of unqualified and unconditional
success, then in taking a vow one is necessarily seeing beyond
one's limitations. If one is wise one allows for the probability
of failure and the possibility of forgetfulness, but somewhere
deep in oneself one still wants to be measured and tested by that
vow. Thereby a vow which is unconditional, which releases the
spiritual will, calibrates one's highest self-respect and is
vitally relevant to the mystery of self-transformation.
The Kwan-Yin pledge is a Bodhisattvic vow taken on behalf of
all living beings. It is closely connected with the bodhichitta,
wisdom-seeking mind, the seed of enlightenment. The idea that an
unenlightened human being can effectively generate a seed of
enlightenment is the central assumption behind the compassionate
teaching of Mahatmas and Bodhisattvas, of the Buddhas and Christs.
A drop of water is suggestive of an ocean; a flashing spark or
single flame is analogous to an ocean of light; the minuscule
mirrors the large. Herein lies the hidden strength of the Kwan-
Yin pledge. What may seem small from the standpoint of the
personal self, when it is genuinely offered on behalf of the
limitless universe of living beings and of all humanity past,
present, and future can truly negate the finality of finitude,
the ultimacy of what seems urgent, the immensity of what appears
immediate. The human mind ceaselessly creates false valuations,
giving ephemera an excessive sense of reality, to uphold itself
in a world of flux. To negate this tendency in advance and to
assign reality only to the whole requires a profound mental
courage. It requires, while one is alive, a recognition of the
connection between the moment of birth and the moment of death,
of the intimate relationship between the pain of one human being
and the sorrow of all humanity. But it also involves a
recognition that greater beings than oneself have taken precisely
such a vow, have affirmed this pledge again and again. Therefore,
one can invite oneself, however frail, however feeble, into the
family of those who are the self-chosen, unacknowledged but
unvanquished friends of the human race.
The prospect of such a vow is naturally perplexing to the
lower mind, which is almost totally ignorant of the priorities of
the immortal soul and knows very little about even this life, let
alone about previous lives. On what basis could the personality
assume a gnostic authority in regard to its own limitations? If
one simply looks at the last ten years of one's life, one will
readily see that many things which looked irrelevant, remote,
even impossible in the past, unexpectedly become part of one's
way of thinking, one's depth of feeling. If a human being does
not truly know himself, merely to be aware of himself at the
personal level in terms of persisting limitations is frustrating.
This does not take into account that in oneself which is
ineffable and unexpressed, whatever cannot come through the
confining parameters of thought, the truncating crudities of
speech and the stultifying restrictions of action.
The Kwan-Yin pledge can be taken by anyone at any time, but
the level of thought and intensity with which it is taken will
determine the degree and reliability of response of the whole of
one's being. Shantideva puts this in the form of an ordination:
When the Sugatas of former times committed themselves to the
bodhichitta, they gradually established themselves in the
practice of a Bodhisattva. So, I too commit myself to the
bodhichitta for the welfare of all beings and will gradually
establish myself in the practice of a Bodhisattva. Today my birth
has become fruitful; my birth as a human being is justified.
Today I am born in the Buddha Family; I am now a son of the
Buddha. Now I am determined to perform those acts appropriate to
my Family; I will not violate the purity of this faultless, noble
Family.
To be able to take one's place in the glorious company of
Bodhisattvas is not to assume that one can, purely on one's own,
fulfil this exalted aim. But once one has truly affirmed it, no
other aim has any comparable significance. This recognition would
be critical to a timely taking of the mighty vow of Buddha, the
sacred pledge of Kwan-Yin, the Bodhisattva ordination of
Shantideva. Timeliness in this sense would mean that one simply
cannot imagine an alternative. If a person were to take the
pledge prematurely, lacking this sense of necessity, it would
precipitate difficulties, making that person guilty, tortured
with anxiety, involved even more in futile comparisons and
contrasts with other human beings, more depressed, more desolate.
But out of all these failures there may come some sense of
timeliness at a later moment of ripeness.
Timeliness does not occur all at once. Timeliness, like all
wisdom, must be the ripe fruit of time-bound experiments and
time-bound errors. Because these are time-bound, they are
evanescent; they are not enduring. In the same way in which one
stumbled and learnt to walk or mumbled the multiplication tables,
one may rediscover something about grace in movement or the deep
logic of elementary numbers. So also one may rediscover the
higher stage, the fuller meaning, the larger significance for the
whole of one's life of the pledge one took. Suppose a person
truly resolves to injure no human being and wishes to release
love in every direction. If one is deeply attracted by this
affirmation, what does it matter if there is something imperfect
and inconclusive in one's repeated efforts to embody it? Mature
individuals, who have done this again and again, know that soon
after one has made such an affirmation, one is going to be tested.
One has invited the Light of the Logos to shine upon the dark
corners of one's being Through heightened awareness one sees
unconscious elements in one's nature which one did not even
imagine were apt to give offence, but are now discerned as
obscurations of one's deepest feelings, one's finest nature,
one's truest, profoundest sense of brotherhood. These discoveries
are significant, but the hardest lesson at all times is the
paramount necessity of patience and persistence. This is a pledge
in favour of selfless service, and it cannot ever be premature.
It will always be timely, though compelling timeliness can only
come when there is serene insight, supported by the strength of
personal invulnerability.
It is the immemorial teaching that the pristine seed of
enlightenment, however small, may germinate far in the future
into a flowering tree of wisdom, a mighty trunk of enlightenment.
Inherent to the pure seed is a potency that represents the
complete disavowal of considerations of success and failure for
oneself, separate from the whole world. There is a fundamental
abnegation of all the earthly criteria of happiness, power and
achievement. For the immortal soul, the pledge could never be
premature. Nevertheless, every sacred utterance should be the
result of deep thought and true feeling, and should be renewed in
silence, enriched by contemplation, and carried over from waking
through dreamless sleep into the day of daily manifestation. If a
person knows this much, then that person knows the essential
nature of the task of self-transformation. As the task also
involves self-forgetfulness and reaching out to all human beings,
a point must surely come when the very thought of one's own
progress or lack of it in relation to the pledge will shrink into
insignificance simply because one's consciousness becomes so
occupied with the greater growth, the larger welfare, of the
human race. If a person thought this out carefully, he or she
could safeguard against the greatest danger, ignoring which is
the mark of immaturity: the cold forgetfulness that arises from
the initial unwisdom or psychic heat in taking a vow. A vow is
sacred; it must germinate in silence. It invokes sacred speech,
but it must ripen through suffering. Where the vow involves a
recognition of the ubiquity of human suffering and where one
chooses to make one's own suffering meaningful and creative for a
larger purpose, the vow has self-correction built into it. Those
who have received this great teaching and have been inspired by
the very highest ideal will be wise to take the Kwan-Yin pledge
at some level. In the words of Buddha, "Anyone who even hears
about Kwan-Yin begins the search then and there for
enlightenment."
The light of daring is essential to the timely taking of the
Kwan-Yin pledge. In the Kwan-Yin Sutra there is a reference to
the flames of agony that consume personal consciousness. Kwan-Yin
in its metaphysical meaning is bound up with fire and water.
Kwan-Yin is connected with the primordial Light of the Logos,
which is the paradigm and the pristine source of all creativity
in the cosmos, of the hidden power in every human being to
produce a result that is beneficent. If Kwan-Yin is ontologically
connected with light, but is also compared to the ocean, what
then is the meaning of the textual reference to extinguishing the
flames of agony? This is a metaphysical paradox. What is light on
the most abstract level of undifferentiated primordial matter is
the darkness of non-being, such as that which is around the
pavilion of God in the Old Testament, or that which is sometimes
simply referred to as "In the beginning", the Archaeus, the dark
abysm of Space. Kwan-Yin is rooted in Boundless Space and
therefore involves noumenal existence at so high a level of
attributeless compassion in Eternal Duration that it is the
paradigm of all the vows and pledges taken by vast numbers of
pilgrims throughout unrecorded history. It is also called Bath-
Kol, the Daughter of the Voice, in the Hebrew tradition, that
which when sought within the inmost sanctuary bestows a merciful
response within the human heart. There is a latent Kwan-Yin in
every human being. It is the voice of conscience at the commonest
level. It is the chitkala of the developed disciple. At the
highest level it is Nada, the Voice of the Silence, the Soundless
Sound, that which is comprehended in initiation, and ceaselessly
reverberates in the anahata, the deathless centre of the human
body, transformed into a divine temple.
The deeper meaning of the Kwan-Yin pledge is enshrined in
profound metaphysics, but at the same time, it reaches down to
the level of human ignorance and pain, at all levels
extinguishing the intensity of craving, the fires of nescience.
This is the teaching of the Kwan-Yin Sutra. When that which is
light at the highest level descends, it becomes like unto cool
water, although intrinsically it is so radiant that it would be
blinding. But when it is diffused it converts its state into a
fluid which is extremely soothing, sometimes compared to the cool
rays of the moon. And then it is capable of giving comfort and
sustenance. When a person is soothed and cooled, it is possible
to let go, to relinquish the intensity of self-concern. Personal
heat is intensely painful when it is experienced without any
awareness of alternatives. But when one finds that it may be
displaced by soothing wisdom, the cooling waters of compassion,
then it is possible to ease the pain and to convert one's mind
from a falsely fiery state, which is destructive, into a cooling
and regenerative condition. These are all alchemical expressions
of processes that are involved in making deliberate changes in
states of consciousness connected with different levels of matter.
Theosophically, every level of thought corresponds to and is
consubstantial with a level of differentiation of substance.
Therefore, one can even discover in ordinary language certain
words that tend to heat up the psycho-mental atmosphere. The very
way in which one characterizes one's own condition may do a lot
of violence through language. One can burn oneself or become
totally suffocated by the flames, though the Hasidic mystics
remind us that even if the castle is burning, there is a lord.
Even while one is burning there can be some recognition of that
incorruptible, inconsumable essence in oneself. This possibility
is the root of all faith in one's power of spiritual survival, as
well as the basis of all notions of physical survival, which are
only shadowy representations of this deeper urge to persist and
prevail. If one has everyday experience of how certain words and
shibboleths can engender a lower heat, one can also employ
gentler words, healing metaphors and analogies, broader
categories, that soothe and cool one's atmosphere. Even learning
to do this is an art, one that can only be practised in a human
being's sincere efforts at apprenticeship to the great masters of
the art. Kwan-Yin is the cosmic archetype of the art. She who
expresses compassion in every conceivable context shows how
inexhaustible are the ways of compassion of wise beings, how
Initiates use every opportunity to release help. This is part of
the universal inheritance of humanity. It is also mirrored in
every mother or father who, despite all the lower levels of
concern, somewhere knows that what he or she does cannot really
be put into the language of calculation, cannot really be weighed
or measured.
Gratitude cannot be compelled, but without it life would not
go on. It is as if human beings impose upon what they innately
know a false structure of expectations, which entangles them in
mental cobwebs that are entirely self-created. If emotion becomes
sufficiently intense, bitter and sour, there can be a tremendous
burden, but even that burden is an act of compassion of the
spirit because its weight eventually burns out the tanha, the
persisting thirst for material sensation, for false personal life.
It will dissolve at the moment of death, but this does not happen
all at once. It will receive certain shocks in life, and thereby
human beings come to throw off the enormous excesses of their own
compulsive cerebration, a great deal of the wastage and the
futility of their own emotions, the wear and tear upon the subtle
vestures through their own anxieties.
What Nature does as a matter of course can be aided by
conscious thought. But where it is aided by conscious thought in
the name of the highest cosmic principle and in the company of a
long lineage, a golden company of great exemplars of the vow and
the pledge for universal enlightenment, one can truly consecrate
one's life and thereby refrain from becoming too tensely involved
in the process of everyday psychological alchemy. This is
implicit in what Buddha taught. If one truly enjoys the very
thought of what Kwan-Yin is, and of what is in the Kwan-Yin
pledge, this enjoyment should itself help to reduce much of the
agony and the anxiety, the tension and strain, of daily striving.
The real problem is to be wholehearted, with as undivided a mind
as can be brought to the pledge. This must be done without
qualifications, without contradictions, but with that holy
simplicity of which the mystics speak, a childlike innocence,
candour and trust. It is an act of acceptance of the universe and
a letting go of whatever comes in the way. When anything does
interfere, it must be consumed in the fires of sacrificial change
that alone will lead to true spiritual growth. Many a monk on the
Bodhisattva Path has found immense benefit through the talismanic
use of these three verses:
If you are unable to exchange your happiness
For the suffering of other beings,
You have no hope of attaining Buddhahood
Or even of happiness in this lifetime.
If one whom I have helped my best
And from whom I expect much
Harms me in an inconceivable way,
May I regard that person as my best teacher.
I consider all living beings
More precious than 'wish-fulfilling gems',
A motivation to achieve the greatest goal:
So may I at all times care for them.
Hermes, November 1979
Raghavan Iyer
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