Part 3: The Swift Path of Transference
Chapter 14Conclusion
མཇུག་བསྡུ་བ
mjug bsdu ba
Patrul Rinpoche draws together the entire arc of the teachings, from the outer preliminaries through the inner practices to the swift path, urging practitioners to put these instructions into practice rather than merely study them. He reflects on the origins of the text, dedicates the merit for all beings, and offers a final, deeply personal encouragement to make this precious human life count.
We have come a long way together through these teachings, and now we arrive at the place where everything must be gathered up and brought home to the heart. All along this journey, from the very first contemplation on the preciousness of human birth to the profound instructions on transference of consciousness, one thread has run through everything: that hearing the Dharma is never enough. It must be lived. It must be practiced. It must change us from the inside out.
, in bringing his extraordinary text to a close, does not simply wave farewell to his readers. He does something far more characteristic, far more useful. He looks back over the entire landscape of the path and distills it one final time, reminding us of what we have received and why it matters so deeply. And then, with the humility that defined his entire life, he tells us exactly what he hopes we will do with it.
The Whole Path in a Single Glance
The teachings contained in this book can be understood as twelve essential points. The first six belong to the ordinary, outer preliminaries -- those great contemplations that turn the mind away from its habitual obsession with worldly concerns and toward the Dharma.
First, by reflecting on the extraordinary difficulty of obtaining a human life endowed with the freedoms and advantages, we learn to use this life for what truly matters. Second, by contemplating the impermanence of everything -- our bodies, our circumstances, the world itself -- we are goaded into a sense of urgency that will not let us waste another day. Third, by recognizing that the whole of samsara, from its highest heavens to its deepest hells, is pervaded by suffering, we develop a genuine determination to be free and a natural for all those still caught in its grip. Fourth, by carefully studying the workings of karma -- how actions produce their effects with unfailing precision -- we learn to give up harmful deeds and embrace what is good. Fifth, by remembering the extraordinary benefits of liberation, we kindle in ourselves a longing for the fruit of practice that grows ever stronger. And sixth, by finding and following an authentic spiritual teacher, we learn to emulate the realization and conduct of someone who has already traveled the path.
These six contemplations are not mere intellectual exercises. They are the very ground on which the entire edifice of practice stands. Without them, nothing that follows can take root.
The next five points belong to the extraordinary, inner preliminaries. Through taking refuge in the Three Jewels, we lay the foundation for liberation itself. Through arousing -- that sublime aspiration to attain enlightenment for the sake of every living being -- we establish the framework for the limitless activities of a bodhisattva. Through the meditation and recitation of Vajrasattva, we purify the harmful actions and broken commitments that obstruct our progress, using the four strengths of confession. Through offering the mandala, we accumulate the and wisdom that are the fuel for every kind of spiritual realization. And through Guru Yoga, in which we pray to the teacher as the source of all blessings, we arouse within ourselves the supreme wisdom of direct realization.
Finally, should death arrive before the path has been fully traversed, the practice of transference of consciousness creates a bridge to the pure realms, opening the possibility of without the need for extended meditation.
also reminds us that these teachings can be understood from another angle. Through the four contemplations that turn the mind and through understanding the benefits of liberation, we awaken a sincere determination to be free -- and that determination opens the door to the entire path. Through following a spiritual friend, we create the favorable conditions for progress. Through refuge, , and the practice of the six transcendent perfections, we are led along the authentic path of all the Buddhas. And through the extraordinary methods of purification, accumulation, Guru Yoga, and transference, we are given something peerless -- teachings unique to this tradition that unite all the essential points of the path in a single, integrated practice.
A Mirror, Not a Window
There is a passage in this conclusion that strikes at the heart of what it means to be a genuine practitioner. tells us that his teacher used to give special instructions aimed at exposing hidden faults -- those subtle tendencies of pride, self-deception, and spiritual laziness that we so often fail to see in ourselves. He included whatever he could remember of those instructions in the most appropriate places throughout the text, and he gives us this counsel: do not use these teachings as a window through which to observe the faults of others. Use them instead as a mirror for examining your own heart.
This is such a simple instruction, and yet it overturns the habits of a lifetime. We are so quick to spot the shortcomings of others and so reluctant to turn that same sharp gaze upon ourselves. But real practice begins exactly here -- in the willingness to look honestly within.
recalls the words of the great Indian master Atisa, who said that the best spiritual friend is one who attacks your hidden faults, and the best instructions are the ones that strike directly at those faults. The best companions on the path are mindfulness and vigilance. The best motivation comes not from comfort but from adversity -- from enemies, obstacles, and the sufferings of illness. And the best method of all is simply not to fabricate anything, but to let the mind rest in its natural state.
What Atisa is pointing to, and what wants us to take to heart, is that the Dharma is not something we can keep at arm's length. It must be brought to bear on our hidden faults. It must be used to correct the mind. Mindfulness and vigilance must be maintained at all times. We must take full responsibility for whatever happens in our lives and never allow even a single negative thought to run unchecked. If we can do all this -- if we can truly use the teachings to tame our own minds -- then we will be doing ourselves the greatest possible kindness. The Dharma will genuinely benefit us, and following a teacher will begin to have real meaning.
Atisa also said that the best way to help others is to lead them to take up the Dharma, and the best way they can receive that help is to actually turn their minds toward practice.
The Origins of This Book
There is something deeply moving about the way describes how this text came into being. He tells us, with characteristic directness, that in writing these teachings down, he was not guided by literary ambition or aesthetic considerations. His sole aim was to faithfully record the oral instructions of his revered teacher in a way that would be easy to understand and genuinely useful for the mind. He did his best, he says, not to spoil the teachings by mixing in his own words or ideas.
The book began when a fellow disciple named Dronma Tsering -- someone describes as diligent and highly disciplined -- gave him notes containing everything he could remember from their teacher's oral instructions. Dronma Tsering insisted that write an explanatory text based on those notes, faithfully preserving the words of their master. Later, Kunzang Thekchok Dorje, a precious tulku who held the lineage of their teacher, repeated the same request two or three times, even going so far as to provide sheets of paper. And a number of 's loving vajra brothers and sisters, whom he describes as being as dear to him as his own eyes and who would remain close to him like a flame and its wick until enlightenment, also encouraged and inspired him.
This is not a text born from intellectual ambition. It arose from devotion, from the insistence of fellow practitioners who knew the immeasurable value of their teacher's words, and from the deep wish that those words might continue to benefit beings for generations to come.
And 's own self-description? He refers to himself simply as "Ragged Abu" -- rough-mannered and burning with afflictive emotions. This from a man widely regarded as one of the greatest realized masters Tibet has ever produced. His humility was not a performance. It was the natural expression of someone who had genuinely seen through the pretensions of ego.
The Dharma as Nourishment, as Plow, as Harvest
In his verses of dedication, offers a series of vivid images for what these teachings are meant to be. He compares them to well-cooked food -- nourishing, satisfying, with all the chaff of unnecessary elaboration winnowed away and seasoned with the essential points of deep practice based on actual experience.
He likens them to a skillful farmer who drives a strong plow through the wasteland of our unruly nature, thick with the three poisons of attachment, aversion, and delusion, unearthing all our hidden faults and irrigating the ground with the water of authentic Dharma.
He calls them a kindly nanny who watches over her charges, gently spotting hidden faults and uprooting them, skillfully encouraging good conduct a hundred times over, concerned only with helping those in her care to improve.
And he describes them as a condensed and accessible guide -- a golden elixir that can soak into even the narrowest of minds, a lamp to illuminate the darkness for those who struggle with understanding, an imperturbable instructor that communicates the right meaning clearly on its own.
These images tell us something essential about how understood the purpose of spiritual writing. It was never about displaying erudition or composing something elegant. It was about being genuinely useful. Extensive philosophical treatises full of elaborate detail, he notes, do not easily fit in the limited space of ordinary minds. Lofty discourses on profound doctrines are hard to put into practice for those of us living in this age of decline. What we need is something direct, practical, warm -- something that meets us where we are.
The Watershed Moment
Perhaps the most urgent passage in this entire conclusion is the one in which tells us, with a kind of fierce tenderness, that we have everything we need. We possess the freedoms and advantages of human existence. We have met authentic teachers and received profound instructions. The opportunity to attain by putting all nine vehicles of the teachings into practice is ours, right now.
And then he says something that should stop us in our tracks: it is now that we can establish a strategy for all our future lives -- or now that we can abandon ourselves to chance. It is now that we can turn our minds toward good -- or now that we can let them drift toward harm. This very moment is the watershed between the right and wrong direction of our entire existence.
He compares this opportunity to finding something to eat when you have only had a single meal in a hundred throughout your whole life. That is how rare and precious this chance is. So use the Dharma to free yourself while you still can. Take death as your constant motivation. Cut short your plans for this life. Diligently practice virtue and abandon harm, even at the risk of your life. Follow an authentic teacher and accept whatever guidance is offered without hesitation. Give yourself, body and mind, to the Three Jewels. When happiness arises, recognize it as the of the Buddhas. When suffering comes, recognize it as the ripening of your own past actions. Apply yourself to the practices of accumulation and purification with the pure motivation of . And ultimately, through immaculate devotion and sacred commitment, unite your mind inseparably with that of a sublime teacher in an authentic lineage. Capture the stronghold of awakening in this very life, courageously taking on the responsibility of freeing all beings -- your old mothers -- from the prison of cyclic existence.
This, tells us, includes all the most crucial instructions.
The Dedication
The text closes with 's dedication of whatever may have arisen from his work. He prays that all beings may be sustained by a perfect spiritual friend, put the teacher's words into practice, and see the excellent fruit of liberation. He prays that all who have been nourished by the nectar of his teacher's instructions may together attain perfect . He dedicates himself to being a servant to his teacher in all future lives, and asks that until samsara ceases, he may pile up his bodies, his belongings, and his in service of all his old mothers who are steeped in affliction.
He also expresses the wish that the blessings of this precious lineage may dawn within the hearts of practitioners like the rising sun, and that future generations who read this text may feel the same devotion as they would upon meeting his enlightened teacher in person.
The text was completed at a hermitage known as Yamantaka's Terrifying Palace, near the remote -- a place describes with rare poetic warmth, where trees bathe their leaves in warm sunlight while their roots drink cool nectar, and flowers and vines spread in garlands beneath the open sky. It was there, in that solitude, sitting on a flat rock near the monastery, that one of the most beloved and widely studied texts in all of Tibetan Buddhism came into being.
His final prayer is that by the of completing this work, all infinite beings may follow this supreme path and be utterly liberated into the vast expanse of the primordial Buddha.
May it be so for each of us.
Study Questions
Patrul Rinpoche summarizes the entire path as twelve essential points spanning the outer preliminaries, inner preliminaries, and the swift path. In your own experience, which of these twelve points has been most transformative for your understanding, and why?
The text advises us to use the teachings as a mirror for examining our own faults rather than as a window for observing the faults of others. What does this distinction look like in daily life, and what habits of mind make it difficult to follow this advice?
Patrul Rinpoche describes this present moment as "the watershed between the right and wrong direction of your entire existence." How does contemplating the urgency of this statement affect your relationship to practice and to the choices you make each day?
Atisa taught that the best motivation comes from adversity -- from enemies, obstacles, and illness -- rather than from comfort. How might difficulties in your own life serve as fuel for genuine spiritual practice rather than as reasons to abandon it?
Patrul Rinpoche emphasizes that he wrote this text not for literary elegance but to faithfully preserve his teacher's oral instructions in a way that would be easy to understand and useful for the mind. What does this tell us about the proper relationship between study and practice, and how might we apply that understanding to our own engagement with Dharma texts?