1. Starting from Ordinary Mind
2. The Paradox of Saṃsāra as Nirvāṇa
3. Conventional Paths: Theravada, Mahayana, and Batriyana
4. The Unique Starting Point of Dzogchen
5. What Is Rushen?
6. The Elastic Band Analogy: Duality and Integration
7. Aspiration as the Gateway to Recognition
8. Outer Rushen: Enacting the Six Realms
9. The Role of Solitude and Wild Practice
10. Nedu: The Collapse into Natural Relaxation
11. Clarification as Separation: Culinary Metaphors
12. The Power of a Clarified Mind: A Mahasiddha Example
13. Outer Rushen as Rapid Purification
14. Transition to Inner Rushen
15. The Need for “Magic” Before Non-Action
16. The Symbolic Power of Sacred Syllables
17. Secular and Sacred Symbols: Universal Magic
18. Working with the Syllable HŪṂ: Form and Sound
19. Inner Rushen Practice: Visualization, Breath, and Color
20. Instructions for Practicing the Blue and Red HŪṂ Cycles
1. Starting from Ordinary Mind
We start off with this assumption, right in our ordinary states of mind. Sometimes we're happy, sometimes we're sad, but generally, it's some kind of mixture of these two things.
2. The Paradox of Saṃsāra as Nirvāṇa
Saṃsāra is nirvāṇa—that's where we're at. That is the starting point, and that is also the goal, of course. But still, this present state of saṃsāra being nirvāṇa is not totally satisfactory, and we think, "How can we improve it?"
3. Conventional Paths: Theravada, Mahayana, and Batriyana
That's the starting point for the Theravada, the Mahayana, and the Batriyana traditions. We establish our own present state as unsatisfactory and establish the goal as a state of perfection.
4. The Unique Starting Point of Dzogchen
In the Mahayana and Batriyana, for instance, we set out on the path by doing the preliminary meditations or contemplations: contemplation upon the precious human body, upon impermanence, upon cause and effect, and upon the inevitability of negative repercussions from negative actions. We begin that process of purification, which takes different durations for different individuals along different paths.
5. What Is Rushen?
In Dzogchen, however, we have this practice called Rushen. Rushen, literally or traditionally, means "separation of saṃsāra and nirvāṇa." What do we do in separating saṃsāra from nirvāṇa when, of course, what we want is the identity of these two things?
6. The Elastic Band Analogy: Duality and Integration
You can look at it in different ways. First of all, if you stretch an elastic band, then the further you stretch it apart, the greater the duality, the greater the dualism you create. And if you let it go, then the greater the impact and the more the force of integration.
7. Aspiration as the Gateway to Recognition
Even in Dzogchen, we must—first of all—recognize (or, as much as that's not quite the right word), but apprehend that we need to make a wish for the recognition of the natural state before we can actually do it. Or just say we need to make an aspiration: the expression of a wish that will be automatically fulfilled. Before we can make that aspiration fully and put our heart into it, we need to separate saṃsāra from nirvāṇa. We need to separate our pain from our pleasure and be in a state where we identify fully with the pain. Then we can fully aspire to the pleasure.
Otherwise, we go in and out of it—as we do day by day. Sometimes we feel okay, then not really anything to complain about. And then the next day is a down day, and there's everything to complain about. And then somebody asks you, really, "Well, how are you?" You say, "Ah, okay—it's a mixture." Don't mix it up.
8. Outer Rushen: Enacting the Six Realms
So the Rushen is to separate saṃsāra from nirvāṇa. And we've got two ways to do this: one is outer and one is inner. From the outer, you can see what the process means. In Tibet, the tradition was to take yourself off to a deserted plateau and hole up in a cave, take off your clothes, and live like an animal for up to three months.
9. The Role of Solitude and Wild Practice
Living out in the wild without any creature comforts, without any support, the yogi enacts each of the six mythic states of being. That is, the yogi tries to pass through the six realms. In this enactment, the projection of a neurotic condition— an erotic condition—is externalized. And in that enactment, the full force of its particular kind of suffering is experienced. We act out our neuroses. This is best done in that solitude on the Tibetan plateau. You could do it here, of course—in the woods or mountains—but you're constricted. In Asia, particularly South Asia, there's always somebody in sight. You need solitude for it. Essentially, it's an acting-out process, and the acting out itself is the full experience of saṃsāra.
10. Nedu: The Collapse into Natural Relaxation
At the end of any period of enactment, there is what you call wedu—which is complete relaxation. You put yourself on the ground after having dramatically, madly, insanely acted out. So, at the end of any given period of practice, in full relaxation, throw yourself on the ground—and in that state is an intimation of your own nature.
11. Clarification as Separation: Culinary Metaphors
So, in this way, nirvāṇa and saṃsāra are separated. It's clarification—in the literal, even culinary sense—where you boil something and the result is a precipitation of the solid and the liquid. The transformation of the element, right? When you boil it... You don’t have to speak in this way, but you transform it and set it. Take the clarification of butter: boiled butter separates, the solid falls out, and what remains is ghee. Or when milk is boiled with a culture, the solids precipitate and you get curds and whey.
It's probably a better illustration for what I’m talking about: something that was mixed up becomes separated into two completely different things. When saṃsāra and nirvāṇa are mixed up in a soup, they become separated and identifiable as something eminently pleasurable and something painful.
12. The Power of a Clarified Mind: A Mahasiddha Example
There's an example of that in the Mahasiddha stories. Travelers were carrying precious stones through a forest. They heard something approaching and, afraid that thieves were near, hid. It happened to be a Mahasiddha. The Mahasiddha heard the clinking of jewels and called out, "What have you got? Who are you?" The travelers replied, "Oh, we’ve just got charcoal here."
Because the Mahasiddha’s mind was so immediately purified and clarified, that statement was instantly manifest. They found their jewels had turned to charcoal. I’m telling that story just to indicate the potency of a mind that is clarified.
13. Outer Rushen as Rapid Purification
The outer Rushen is obviously a very gross method of dealing with the situation— working with the body on that physical level. What it means is that the purification is a very fast purification process. It's purifying the ability to perceive the nature of mind here and now. And if not that, then you’re purifying the aspiration toward that. It’s defining a self-fulfilling aspiration.
Probably we’ll all agree that even in this mixed-up state, saṃsāra-and-nirvāṇa prayer can work. But when the mind is clarified or purified in this way, it works much faster and much more effectively. We go one step further—into the perfect union of saṃsāra and nirvāṇa—and of course, everything works so well that a thought is immediately manifest.
14. Transition to Inner Rushen
There’s an inner Rushen, however. The inner Rushen uses both energy and mind.
15. The Need for “Magic” Before Non-Action
You might say, “But isn’t the nature of mind here and now present? Isn’t there nothing to do—non-action?” Well, no—we’re not there yet. We’re at the point of aspiration. We’re looking for doors into that space. We’re looking for the key—in terms of prison.
Yes, if we were already in that state of non-dual reality, then even thinking of the key would immediately precipitate us out of it. But if we’re in this dualistic place—where we are aspiring to non-duality—then we’re in a position where magic will work. And the magic opens the doors and windows of that prison.
16. The Symbolic Power of Sacred Syllables
The syllables are part of that magic. Again, we could go into a very interesting digression about the magical nature of syllables—or look at a larger perspective and think about the magical nature of symbols. It’s a very interesting topic, and I doubt anybody here has serious doubts that symbols have this magical power.
17. Secular and Sacred Symbols: Universal Magic
We have these symbols here: the vajra and the bell. The vajra is, of course, a formalized thunderbolt. Nobody—not even a child—can doubt the symbolic power of a thunderbolt. The bell is rather more sophisticated. I don’t know that the bell has the same significance in all cultures—it’s a female symbol. But for males, it’s obviously the beat on the string.
Religious symbols are religious symbols because they work. But even in the secular arena, symbols like eyeglasses are magical—the magnification of what is illegible, or giving sight to the blind. Even in our own culture, symbols like the eye represent the ability to see through blindness. But symbols don’t always automatically give up their meaning.
18. Working with the Syllable HŪṂ: Form and Sound
Take the syllable HŪṂ. What can you read into that? What can it give you symbolically? It’s opaque. Maybe its significance is in its opacity—like a random figure. The intellect can take it apart.
For those unfamiliar with Tibetan: the central part is the root consonant. The lines above lengthen the vowel sound; the crescent and dot (sun and moon) nasalize it. But that analysis doesn’t convey symbolic meaning—it just names the parts. So, let’s leave the calligraphic shape and concentrate on the sound.
What happens in the vocal cords is an opening—the simple opening—and the vowel sound moves freely from here up to here, actually drawing energy inward to a focal point.
19. Inner Rushen Practice: Visualization, Breath, and Color
In the inner Rushen, we visualize the syllable, hang it on the breath, and send it out from the heart center into the vibrato—then concentrate on the sound. The exercise utilizes two levels: energy and mind. The breath indicates the energy dimension; the visualization of the syllable indicates the mind dimension.
This is not static visualization—it’s dynamic. First, we must learn to visualize clearly. Some people struggle with visualization; others can’t hold tonal imagery. For those who can’t visualize the syllable, focus on its color. Most people can see color in the mind’s eye—and color carries vital symbolic meaning: blue is the color of peaceful power; red is the color of wrathful power.
20. Instructions for Practicing the Blue and Red HŪṂ Cycles
First, visualize a large, single, blue HŪṂ in the body. As you breathe out, exhale a cloud of blue HŪṂs—starting minuscule, growing as large as the biggest object in your visual field. Imagine your body seated in an energetic field, giving off clouds of HŪṂs of all sizes, projected outward on the breath.
These scintillating sky-blue fumes banish into all objects in the visual field— especially animate beings, but also inanimate ones, from the smallest specks to the largest pillars and rafters. If you can’t visualize the syllable, visualize a pattern of blue light in the cloud.
Visualize the HŪṂ in your body facing outward—so if projected, it would appear face-on to you. The emitted HŪṂs all face the same direction. On the in-breath, draw all those countless fumes back through your breathing apparatus into the single HŪṂ in your body.
For beginners: place a clear image of HŪṂ in front of you to familiarize yourself with its form. For those already familiar: sharpen its definition internally and begin the breath cycle with as much precision as possible—maintaining color, orientation, and dynamism.
Then repeat the cycle with red HŪṂs—visualizing them on the out-breath, filling the space, purifying the environment and beings, then drawing them back into the heart center on the in-breath. The rhythm, tone, and quality of breath should express purification—not concealment, but burning clarity.
This is not elemental work in the classical sense, nor is it centered on a specific chakra—though it unfolds from the heart region. Its essence is symbolic, energetic, and aspirational: a magical preparation for the effortless recognition of rigpa.