In Touch With Shangpa Kagyu

Chapter 1 Lineage Of Wisdom Dakini

1.1. In Touch With Shangpa Kagyu

Some readers will surely remember a man named Milarepa (also translated as Milaripa), called “Master Muna” in Han areas. He is renowned in Tibetan Buddhism. First, he learnt cursing methods, and killed many people by curses. Rapidly he became awakened and regretted. Milarepa converted under a lama called Marpa, experienced countless sufferings without regretting his decision and received the true essence. He lived in the mountains, solely meditating, eating grass when there was no food, and later even his body became green. Eventually this person acquired the greatest accomplishment, and preached the truth in forms of spiritual songs. On the head of my bed I always put the book of his spiritual songs. This is one of most spiritually splendid books in human cultures. He had a disciple called Gampopa who transmitted his lineage and made great impact—this is the Kagyu tradition historically called.

There are two schools in Kagyu tradition:

One is Dagpo Kagyu: Master Marpa transmitted to Milarepa, then to Dagpo Lhaje from whom Dagpo Kagyu became bigger and bigger, giving rise to “four major branches and eight sub-branches”. The four major branches are: Karma Kagyu, Barom Kagyu, Tselpa Kagyu and Phagtru Kagyu; the eight sub-branches are: Drikung Kagyu, Taglung Kagyu, Drukpa Kagyu, Trophu Kagyu, Martsang Kagyu, Yelpa Kagyu, Yamzang Kagyu, and Shungseb Kagyu. There are many books on Dagpo Kagyu, and this book does not intend to make repeated statements.

The other is Shangpa Kagyu, introduced in this book.

Shangpa Kagyu is a culture that was almost buried. This heavenly sound was submerged by the chaos and commotion of history. Although some scholars have discovered dim traces in narrow meandering footpaths covered by sand, no one has narrated Shangpa Kagyu as this book will do.

One day in my thirties, suddenly I understood: one of my aims coming into this world is to uncover this unknown treasure and release the native brightness of Shangpa Kagyu by getting rid of the heavy dust covering her, and grasping hairspring-like messages.

You may finally have realised why I chose the most golden period in a writer’s life to write this book. You don’t have to read my Da Mo Ji, Lie Yuan or Stone Caves of West Xia. You may even throw Lang Huo into the trashcan. But to this book, some small degree of reverence should be shown. What I have devoted to it, is life itself, that gold cannot buy – all my sincerity and selfless devotion, my most fervent prayers. What it brings you may not be the simple pleasure of reading, but it will serve the soul’s revitalisation. More probably, your life may change course because of the people, things and events in this book that have sparked admiration and respect in your heart. Throughout history, there are many people whose enlightenment was triggered by the small and commonplace: perhaps a person, an event, an item or a book. In my case, I touched by a kind of spirit in certain moment and then converted to the vehicle of this spirit, and therefore wrote those works that are worthy of reading.

 I often cry with tears all over my face when faced with the many vistas concealed by history. My tears, like my sincerity often merged into my published books. During many years spent writing the novel DA MO JI (Shanghai Culture Publisher), I often cried bitterly in my dreams. I have come to this world like a ghost, seen poor peasants in tribulation everywhere, and frequently cried until awaked. The same happened during writing the novel LIE YUAN (Beijing October Literature Publisher). Do not laugh at my frailty, because I have found the heaviness of that tribulation. This tribulation will disappear only when their souls become enlightened. However, the enlightening of souls and the changing of perspective are the hardest projects in this world. From the day humanity came into being, countless saints preached truth with all the strength of heart and soul. The history of human civilisation is in fact the history of saintly preaching, yet humanity is still heavily shrouded in the dense clouds of greed, ignorance, and hate. Once you turn on TV, the blood stained sky will pierce your clear sighted eyes.

After reading this paragraph, you may understand why LIE YUAN was filled with so many words of commentary.

Although my pen is clumsy, it is filled with sincerity. I do not wish to gain prodigious  fame and copious fortune by it. My only wish is for it to become a candle. Although it will burn itself out day by day, that brightness will always enlighten predestined people. In my eyes, all readers are my father and mother. You may see a boy, with all of his body and heart bared, resplendently smiling to mom, and that boy is me.  

 In a place rarely disturbed by human steps, I started to write this book. Strikingly, in the prime of health, I felt pains all over my body and my back felt as if it would break. I understood: the uncleanliness of my heart was waging a final war with me in the form of sickness and pain. In my former writing life, I never had pain like this. However, eventually I was able to tolerant this feeling like fried in an oil pan, and looked on this writing as Milarepa building of the house for his guru Marpa. About one year later, I began to step in to tranquillity. At that moment, I was not the man I had been. That year, DA MO JI had already qualified for the sixth “Maodun Literature Prize”. Someone tried to persuade me to make some relationships, and I just smiled.

The writing of this book was sporadically disrupted by commitments such as travelling abroad and publishing. The process lasted for more than two years. Although my body often left the writing desk, my heart was always with this book. I was blessed by the splendidness of the Shangpa lineage at every moment, and I recited the wisdom true-words passed on to me by guru everyday. The impurities of my heart dissolved into light, and my wisdom and compassion increased day by day. The most obvious change was that my heart became as soft as a newborn’s. Every time I saw beggars standing shivering in the wind, tears would stream down my face. This world also grew to contain sceneries too beautiful to bear, a falling leaf, a wild goose calling, a sunny smile are all enough to move me.

I have truly entered the hearts of those venerable saints of Shangpa Kagyu.

What distinguishes Shangpa Kagyu from other historical lineages is that Shangpa Kagyu never used worldly power to propagate her teaching. What is the strength that ensured her continuance over a thousand years?

This is a truly independent lineage, which cares not even for the acknowledgment of history books.

This fire of wisdom transmitted for a thousand years was never extinguished by the wild storms, though sometimes burnt like a field alight and sometimes seemed like a candle in the wind. Receding figures often appear before my eyes, their unspoken loneliness and nobility injecting great strength into my soul.

 In literature of many scholars, Shangpa Kagyu is only an icon. It was even seen as being no more than a backdrop for Dagpo Kagyu. Except at the early times of its establishment, Shangpa Kagyu has always been more like an underground river, which shows no obvious waves on the surface, but surges with continuous vitality for a thousand years. As the Chan Lineage in Han areas, her fate for a long period hung upon the shoulders of a single person.