མཆོག་ཏུ་གྱུར་བ། vs. མཆོག་ཏུ་མི་འགྱུར་བ།

I was chanting through the Concise Manual for Daily Practice (Rgyun gyi rnal 'byor bkol byang) recently when I came across the following line:

Mchog tu mi 'gyur bde chen rdo rje'i ngang:

I had to take a second glance because my initial instinct was to read it as "Within the non-supreme, blissful, vajra state..." which would be perhaps an anomaly in Tibetan Buddhist literature. So I took another looked and compared it with the translation before noticing my error. I was reading mchog tu mi 'gyur as mchog tu mi gyur, that is without the a prefix. As I know see, this makes a huge difference. The above line should then rather be read as "Within the supreme, immutable, and blissful varja state..."

It is the gyur in past tense that is often said to act like a yin and translates bhū in Sanskrit. It is also the gyur in the name of the great treasure revealer Mchog gyur gling pa for instance. Mi 'gyur on the other hand is a stock phrase meaning "immutable" (it's also a personal name which speaks to it's ability to stand alone by itself).

Of course, a single syllable can invert the meaning of a line (as in the case of a negation) but this was the first time I saw how a single letter could change  and thereby alter meaning so radically!

The Great Treasure Chokgyur Lingpa

Speculative etymology

The verbs zhi ba (to be pacified) and shi ba (to die) strike me as being etymologically related. To be honest, I'm not sure how the etymology of words are traced. But given that they sound relatively similar and represent somewhat similar process one would think that there must be some connection.

ཇ་ཨེ་འཐུང་། ཟ་མ་ཨེ་ཟོས།

This photo was taken my friend's sister took on her trip through Lhasa. It's of a tea house by the name of Toilet Tea House. It's real. Supposedly there used to be a public toilet (like there are throughout Tibet) where the tea house now stands and hence it was aptly named. Perhaps it's important to note that the Chinese is a transliteration and NOT a translation! Can I invite you for a cup of ... tea?

My friend's comment on his sisters photo was "Did you drink any tea? Did you eat anything?" (Tibetan in the title to this post). It's interesting to note that there are two ways to conjugate the verb za, to eat.

1.)   མ་འོངས་པ། བཟའ། ད་ལྟ་བ། ཟ། འདས་པ། བཟས། སྐུལ་ཚིག ཟོ།

or

2.)  མ་འོངས་པ། བཟའ། ད་ལྟ་བ། ཟ། འདས་པ། ཟོས། སྐུལ་ཚིག ཟོ།

Basically the difference is with the past tense form, not with the meaning. It seems that the first is more prevalent in Central Tibet and the second in Eastern Tibet. Also on that note, in Central Tibet they prefer to use the word gsang spyod for toilet which is also understood in Eastern Tibet although they more often use spyod khang. At any rate, please enjoy yourself a nice tea today!

Round two of the scholar-practioner ideal

Hi all,

I'm back after a hiatus of what looks like... a year and a half. Yikes!

My last post was at the of end of February 2016. It was about that time that the Masters was heating up, I was struggling with emotional battles, and Nepal was hit with a 7.2 earthquake two months later. I don't wish to make excuses, but reflecting back, I understand why this blog came to a stand still. My musings on Tibetan language certainly never stopped as I've kept reading as much as I could, however, I simply didn't have the capacity to share them.

Now, a year and a half later, I have finished the MA, starting practicing more seriously (and, I believe, by virtue of that attained some basic mental-emotional stability), and life has more or less smoothed out.

There's many musings I'd love to share, but today I want to create some "tendrel" or auspicious circumstances (rten 'brel) for this blog by sharing some advice from Dza Paltrul (Rdza dpal sprul). These lines really spoke to me about the ideal of the scholar-practitioner---someone who is neither a dry intellectual nor someone informed by blind faith; someone who possess great learning and wisdom yet is accompanied by great humility and compassion:

དེ་ལྟར་ཡུལ་ཤེས་བྱ་སྤྱི་གནས་ལུགས་རྟོགས་ཀྱང་།  ཡུལ་ཅན་ཤེས་པ་རང་གི་གནས་ལུགས་མ་རྟོགས་ན།  ཆོས་ཐམས་ཅད་ཤེས་བྱའི་ཡུལ་དུ་ལུས་ནས་ཉོན་མོངས་པའི་གཉེན་པོར་མི་འགྲོ་སྟེ་རྟོགས་པ་དེ་ཉིད་ལ་སླར་ང་རྒྱལ་དང་རློམ་སེམས་སྐྱེ་ཞིང་།  གང་ཟག་གི་བདག་རགས་སུ་འགྲོ་བས།  ཤེས་བྱ་ཤེས་མཁན་གྱི་བློའམ་སེམས་སམ།  ཡིད་དམ་རྣམ་ཤེས་ཁོ་རང་གི་གནས་ལུགས་རྟོགས་དགོས། 

I have translated this below in what many would call an "interpretive" manner (although I would argue that there is no translation that is not interpretive). What I mean to say is that, I translated it as it spoke to me:

Even if you understand the general reality of external objects and intellectual facts, you may have still not realized the particular reality of the inner subject or the mind. If that is the case, then everything will simply remain within the realm of [mere] facts and will not serve to remedy your disturbing emotions. Likewise, you will feel more pride and arrogance with respect to your knowledge and [your sense of] personal self will become coarser. Therefore, you must realize the natural state of that which knows objects of knowledge--the intellect, the mind, consciousness, or whatever you may call it.

It's great to study Buddhism. It's great to study philosophy. It's great to study language, grammar, history, and so on. It really is a joy. But if we leave our studies merely at an intellectual level, it would really be a loss. Instead, let us let them let them transform us for the better! The majority of the musings on this blog will be on random fun facts and discoveries about the Tibetan language but nevertheless, let's see what happens!

 

•

རྒྱལ་ཀུན་གྱི་སྐྱེད་ཡུམ་ལྷ་མོ་དབྱངས་ཅན་མ་ལ་ན་མོ།

Homage to Sarasvatidevi, the mother of all awakened ones.