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Jetsun Milarepa - Biographical notes

"All worldly pursuits have but one unavoidable and inevitable end, which is sorrow; acquisitions end in dispersion; buildings in destruction; meetings in separation; births in death. Knowing this, one should, from the very first, renounce acquisitions and storing-up, and building, and meeting"

"Accustomed long to contemplating love and compassion I have forgotten all difference between myself and others."

To attain Buddhahood ... we must scatter this life's aims and objects to the wind.

Read more Milarepa quotes.

Introductory Notes

Milarepa, the eleventh-century poet and yogi, is perhaps the most recognizable figure in the history of Tibetan Buddhism. From the Gungthang province of Western Tibet, close to Nepal, Milarepa (1052-1135) had a hard childhood and a dark youth. He was only seven when his father died. Relatives had illegally taken over his father’s property and mistreated the bereaved family. His mother, seeking to avenge herself and the family, sent Milarepa to train in black magic, to wreak revenge on those who had embittered her life. Milarepa became an adept at the practices he was taught, and unleashed a wave of destruction, killing many.

But, by and by, he came to regret his actions, and looked for guidance in atoning for the bad karma he had acquired during his vengeful adolescence. He first studied under the Nyingmapa Lama Rongton, who, intuiting that Milarepa had a karmic connection to Marpa, sent him to learn with him. Marpa, being aware that Milarepa had first of all to purify himself from the negative karma he had accumulated, exposed him to an extremely hard training. Among other trials, he had to build towers out of rocks to Marpa’s specifications with his bare hands, only to be ordered to tear them down again, repeatedly. But finally, Marpa gave Milarepa full transmissions of all the Mahamudra teachings from Naropa, Tilopa, Maitripa and other Indian masters.

Practicing these teachings for several years in isolated mountain caves, Milarepa finally attained enlightenment. He became reputed for his superhuman perseverance in meditation and for his spontaneous songs of realization. Of his many students, Gampopa became his main lineage holder.

Childhood and Early Life

Milarepa was born in western Tibet to a prosperous family in the 11th century. When he was born, his mother dispatched a messenger to the place his father was staying, entrusting him with a letter that said, “Here, at harvest time, a son was born to me. Come quickly to name him and to celebrate his naming feast.” The messenger delivered the letter to his father and told him the story. Overjoyed, his father said, “O wonderful! As I am delighted to hear the news that the child has been born a son, I shall call him Töpaga (Delightful to Hear). Now that my business is finished, I shall leave.”

Milarepa's family held a fine naming feast in his honor in due course of time. Then, when he turned four years old, his mother gave birth to a girl who was named Gönmokyi. Her nickname was Peta so she became known as Peta Gönkyi. Milarepa recalled that they two, brother and sister, had dangling locks plaited with turquoise and gold. They held great authority and influence throughout the region, so the local nobility became aligned with their family and the peasants came into their service.

Milarepa's father dies

When Milarepa was about seven years old, his father Mila Sherab Gyaltsen was stricken with a terrible illness. Doctors and diviners foretold that he would not recover and they abandoned him. Friends and relatives likewise knew he would not live. Even his father himself was resolved that he would not survive. All the relatives, including Milarepa's paternal uncle and aunt, friends, countrymen, and neighbors all gathered. His father intended to place his wife and children, together with all of his wealth, in the care of a trustee. At last he prepared an extensive testament ensuring that his son would reclaim his patrimony.

On his death-bed, Milarepa's father said: "I shall not recover from my present illness. Consequently, as my son is still young, these are the arrangements through which I entrust him to the care of all his relatives, especially his paternal uncle and aunt. My wealth includes all the following: in the highlands, yaks, horses, and sheep; in the lowlands, various tracts of land, Orma Triangle foremost among them, upon which the poor dare not even look; on the ground floor of the house, cattle, goats, and donkeys; in the upper rooms, utensils of gold, silver, and iron, turquoise, silk fabrics, and a granary.

“Spend a portion of these for expenses after I am gone. The rest I entrust to all of you gathered here until my son is able to support his own household. In particular, I entrust him to the care of both his paternal uncle and aunt. When my son is able to support his own family, he shall marry Dzesé, as they were betrothed in childhood. You will then return to him my wealth in its entirety and ensure that my son thus takes charge of his patrimony." With this, his father died. The uncle and aunt said, “We won’t lead them, mother and children, into misery. In accordance with the testament, we shall assume control of the wealth.”

Ill-treatment by paternal uncle and aunt

After some time, his uncle took the men’s goods and his aunt took the women’s; the rest they divided in half. Having done so, they said, “You, mother and children, shall serve us each in turn.” Thus his mother and the children no longer had control of their possessions. In summer, the time for working the fields, they were the uncle’s servants. In winter, the time for spinning and weaving wool, they were the aunt’s servants. Their food was food for dogs, their work, work for donkeys. They wore strips of tattered robe over their shoulders, tied with a jute belt. Forced to toil without rest, their limbs became cracked and raw. With only poor food and clothing, they became pale and emaciated. Their hair, once dangling in locks plaited with gold and turquoise, turned ashen and thin and became infested with lice.

When Milarepa reached his fifteenth year, Milarepa's mother invited their close relatives, headed by the paternal aunt and uncle, friends, countrymen, and neighbors, in particular anyone with knowledge of Milarepa's father Mila Sherab Gyaltsen’s testament letter read at the time of his death. Milarepa's mother said to everyone present: "Up to now both uncle and aunt have looked after me and my children with utmost care. Now, as my son and Dzesé are able to support their own family, I ask that you return our wealth that was entrusted to you, that my son marry Dzesé, and that he then take possession of his patrimony in accordance with his father’s testament." The evil uncle and aunt said, “You have possessions? Where are they? Previously, when Mila Sherab Gyaltsen was in good health we loaned him a house, fields, gold, turquoise, crossbred yaks, horses, yaks, and sheep. When he died, these possessions were returned to their owner. Do you own a single piece of gold? A handful of barley? A single lump of butter? A single silken robe? What is more, even this house belongs to us, so you and your children, get out!" and he slapped Milarepa's mother with his hand and struck his sister and him with the length of his sleeve. Milarepa's mother fell on the floor weeping and rolled back and forth on the ground. He and his sister could do nothing for her but weep.

Mother's Suffering

While studying to read in Mithögeka, one day Milarepa accompanied his master to the lower valley of Tsa where he was invited to preside over a great wedding feast. The alcohol was plentiful and people from every direction served the master beer. Milarepa was also drunk on beer, and felt a desire to sing. He had a good voice, so he walked along singing. The path passed in front of his house. Milarepa's mother was inside roasting barley and heard her son singing. “What is this?” she wondered. “This voice sounds like my son’s. But nowhere on earth is there anyone more miserable than me and my children, so how could he be singing?”

Not believing what she heard, she came to look. She recognized him and, in her astonishment, cast away the tongs in her right hand and the barley whisk in her left. Carrying a stick in her right hand and a handful of ashes in her left, she flew down the big steps, leapt over the small ones, and appeared outside. She threw the ashes in his face and struck him on the head several times with the stick, crying, “Father Mila Sherab Gyaltsen, a son such as this has been born to you! Your family line has been broken. Look upon the fate that has befallen us, mother and children.” With this, she fainted and fell to the ground.

After a while, she regained consciousness and said, “Boy, can you really think about singing songs when nowhere on earth is there anyone more miserable than us, mother and children? He said, “Mother, you are right. Do not be so distressed. I shall do whatever you wish.” My mother replied, “I would like to see you draped in a fine cloak and mounted upon a horse with your stirrups slashing the throats of our hated enemies. Such will not come to pass; yet success is still possible by means of treachery. So I would like you to train to become an expert in black magic, curses, and casting hail. Then you should destroy all those who inflicted misery on us, villagers and countrymen beginning with your uncle and aunt, cutting off their family lines for nine generations. See if you can do that.” “I will see if I am able, mother. Prepare offerings for the lama and provisions for me, whatever you have.”

Training to be a Black Magician

So that he might train in black magic, his mother sold half of the field Trepé Tenchung in return for a turquoise called Karchen Ötro (Great Radiant Star) and a white horse called Sengé Sabmé (Unbridled Lion) beloved in the region. She also obtained two bundles of dye and two packs of dried molasses.

Then, with the two bundles of dye loaded on the horse and the turquoise tucked away on his person, Milarepa set out. His mother accompanied him for a long while. At last she pulled him aside and grasped his hand over and over, unable to bear the thought of parting from her only son. With her face tearstained and her voice choked with sobs, she said, “Son, remember our misfortunes. You must do whatever you can to show signs of black magic in our region. Son, if you return without showing signs of black magic in our region, I, your old mother, will kill myself right in front of you.” Milarepa promised, and then they parted ways.

So then, setting out to meet lama Yungtön Trogyal, Milarepa and his companions reached the village of Kyorpo in Yarlung. When they met the lama, Milarepa's companions presented only trifling gifts, but Milarepa offered everything, gold and turquoise. He said, "I further offer my body, speech, and mind. There are some people who live nearby in my region who envy my happiness. Have pity and give me your most potent black magic, one that will show signs of working in my region."

But from that point on he did not teach Milarepa the deepest black magic. Rather, he gave him a few evil mantras that he claimed would make heaven and earth tremble and clash, as well as a few useful instructions together with their ritual practices. About a year passed in this way. Satisfied that they had learnt enough black magic for their purpose, Milarepa's companions prepared to leave.. They offered their thanks and made prostrations to the lama, and then they left. But Milarepa was not satisfied. He said to the lama, “Precious lama, there are three of us, my mother, my sister, and me. Some of our neighbors and countrymen, led by my uncle and aunt, have risen up as enemies and tormented us with all manner of cruelty. Powerless to retaliate against them, my mother sent me to train in black magic. If I return home without showing signs of black magic, my mother will kill herself in front of me. That is why I am requesting that you grant me the deepest black magic.” Milarepa made this appeal and wept. At the time, the lama had a monk sent to Milarepa's home to look things over. He quickly returned and said, “Precious lama, Töpaga has told the truth, so you should really teach him magic.”

The Lama then said to Milarepa, "Since you have told the truth, you will now be granted black magic, but you must go to another master to study it. I possess a black magic rite called Zadong Marnak (Dark Red Faced Dza) that, when cast, kills with the syllable hūṃ and causes unconsciousness with the syllable phaṭ. In the region called Nup Khulung in Tsangrong lives the Khulungpa lama named Yönten Gyatso, knowledgeable in both medicine and mantra, and I gave this practice to him. He possesses the practice of casting hailstorms by pointing one’s finger, which he gave to me. As we then became close friends, those who come to me to study black magic I send to him and those who go to him to study hail casting he sends to me. For this reason, I will also send you to him together with my son."

The Lama provided his elder son and Milarepa with a crossbred yak loaded with thick wool and blended flannel together with a small gift and sealed letter. Having then reached Nup Khulung in Tsangrong, they met lama Nubchungwa Yönten Gyatso and offered him the woolens along with the gift and letter from the lama. Explaining the circumstances of his situation in detail, Milarepa requested that he agree to teach him black magic.

The Practice of Black Magic

The lama said, “The lama has been my friend for a long time and is true to his word. I shall certainly teach you two the instructions for black magic. On that mountain spur down there, construct a retreat cell where you will not be disturbed by human hands.”

The cell had three stories below and one story above in which they placed sturdy beams, aligned side by side like rows of fish. We secured the perimeter with boulders nearly the size of yaks, leaving no gaps between them. We thus made the retreat cell so that others could neither discover its door nor find a way to infiltrate its walls. The master then gave instructions on black magic. We practiced the magic and seven days passed. The lama came and said, “In the past, seven days were sufficient. That should be enough this time too.”

Milarepa replied, “Since this is black magic cast from a great distance, I ask that we continue for another seven days.”

“In that case,” he said, “continue to practice.”

On the evening of the fourteenth day, the lama returned and said, “Tonight, signs of black magic will appear at the edge of the mandala.” That night, oath-bound protectors of the teachings appeared carrying thirty five human heads and hearts, covered in blood.

They said, “For some days, you have called upon us and this is just what you have asked for,” and they piled the heads and hearts at the edge of the mandala. In the morning, the lama returned and said, “There remain two people to be liberated. Should they be killed or spared?” “Spare them,” replied Milarepa, “in order to make known my satisfaction and justice.”

Meanwhile, in Milarepa's homeland of Kyangatsa, there had been a wedding feast for the evil uncle’s elder son to receive his bride. Thirty-five people who despised Milarepa and his family gathered in the house, led by the evil uncle’s sons and their wives. At that moment, a former servant of Milarepa who now worked for the evil uncle went to draw water. She did not see the many horses tethered in the courtyard, but instead saw it filled with scorpions, spiders, snakes, tadpoles, and the like. In their midst stood a scorpion as big as a yak, thrusting its claws around a pillar and tearing it out. She fled in terror, and just as she landed outside, the many stallions that were tethered together with the mares riled the females, causing all the horses to startle and rear, while the mares kicked at the stallions. Pillars were struck and they toppled. The house collapsed, and under the rubble some thirty-five people died, including the evil uncle’s sons and their wives.

The house was filled with corpses and shrouded in a swirl of dust. Seeing the calamity that filled the area outside, Peta (the sister of Milarepa) rushed to her mother and gave an account, saying, “Mother! Mother! Uncle’s house has collapsed and many people have died. Come look.” Her mother wondered whether it was true or not and, overwhelmed with joy, she went to look. Upon seeing the house reduced to a swirling cloud of dust and hearing the valley filled with mournful cries, she was as happy as she was astonished.

Right then, she fastened a tattered rag to the end of a long stick and holding it aloft she cried in a loud voice, “I present this before you, please accept it, gods, lamas, and the Triple Gem. I, Nyangtsa Kargyen, have worn tattered clothes and eaten bad food in order to provide for my son day in and day out. Look and see if it has paid off. Previously Uncle and Aunt said, ‘If you are many wage war, if you are few cast magic.’ Now, magic cast by the few has gained more than war waged by many. Look at the people in the upper stories. Look at the animals below. Look at the riches in between. I have lived a long time and have at last witnessed such a spectacle displayed by my son. Look! Could I, Nyangtsa Kargyen, be happier than I am right now?”

Remorse

AS the days passed, Milarepa felt remorse for the evils he had committed through casting black magic. He thought about dharma so intensely that during the day he forgot to eat. At night he was so filled with world-weariness and renunciation that he was unable to sleep. While he continued to serve the lama, he constantly agonized about how he might practice dharma.

At that time, the lama had a faithful and devoted patron who amassed great wealth and so was able to provide whatever was needed. This patron was stricken with a terrible illness, and the lama was the first to be called upon to look after him. Three days passed and the lama returned, his face dark and sullen. “Venerable lama, why do you seem so uneasy?” Milarepa asked. He replied, “All composite things are impermanent. Last night my fine patron died, so I am saddened by life’s round. More importantly, I am an old man and from the white teeth of my youth to the white hair of my old age I have focused my actions on destruction through black magic, curses, and hailstorms. Son, from a young age you too have accumulated terrible evil deeds by casting magic and hailstorms. All those will come to weigh upon me as well.”

“Has the lama not led those beings to higher rebirth and liberation?” asked Milarepa.

The lama replied, “I understand that the nature of beings is reality itself and I know in theory how to lead them to higher rebirth and liberation. I also know a ritual or two for doing that, but I have only words and rote knowledge, so when the time comes to perform them I have no confidence that they will work. Now I am going to practice dharma so I can endure whatever difficulties arise. You stay here to look after my disciples and I will take up the path for your higher rebirth and liberation. Or else, you practice dharma and take up the path for my higher rebirth and liberation. I will provide you with the necessary provisions.”

In this way, Milarepa's wish was fulfilled and he requested permission to practice dharma himself. “In that case,” said the lama, “since you are young and show great perseverance and faith, you must practice perfectly pure dharma. In the place called Nar in Tsangrong lives lama Rongtön Lhaga who has become a scholar and adept of the authentic dharma called Great Perfection. Go there and practice in a genuine way”

Turning toward the Dharma

After a few days travel, Milarepa finally met the lama and told him that he was a terrible sinner who had come from Nyima Latö, and requested a dharma teaching that brings about liberation in this lifetime. The lama replied, “This authentic dharma of mine, the Great Perfection, is victorious in the spreading of its roots, victorious in the achievement of its canopy, and victorious in the fruit it bears. Meditate by day and become a buddha by day. Meditate by night and become a buddha by night. Fortunate beings whose past actions have created favorable circumstances do not even need to meditate, they are liberated by simply hearing it. Since it is a dharma teaching for those with superior faculties, I shall grant it.”

The lama gave the initiations and instructions, and Milarepa thought, “When I first practiced magic, substantial signs of success appeared in fourteen days. Seven days were enough for hail. Now here is a teaching even easier than magic or hail. Meditating by day, you become a buddha by day. Meditating by night, you become a buddha by night. And if you are a fortunate person whose past actions have created favorable circumstances, you don’t even need to meditate. To encounter such a tradition, I too must be one of those people with favorable circumstances.” Filled with pride in this way, Milarepa stayed in bed without meditating, and in this way the man and the teaching parted ways.

When several days had passed the lama said, “It is true what you said, you are a great sinner who has come from Latö, and so I have not been able to guide you. Now, in the remote hermitage called Drowolung in Lhodrak there lives a direct disciple of the great Indian adept Nāropa. He is a supreme master, the king of translators named Marpa Lotsawa, an adept of the New Mantra Tradition without rival throughout the three realms. Since you have a karmic link with him from previous lives, go see him.”

Simply hearing the name of Marpa the Translator Milarepa was filled with an indescribable happiness, every hair on his body quivered with joy, and he sobbed with boundless devotion. He focused his mind one-pointedly and set out carrying provisions and a volume of scripture. As he went along he thought, “When, O when will I meet the lama and see his face?”

Marpa's Dream

The night before Milarepa's arrival in Drowolung, Paṇchen Nāropa appeared to Marpa in a dream and granted initiation. To Marpa he gave a slightly soiled five-pronged vajra made from lapis lazuli and a golden vase filled with nectar. Then he said, “Using water from the vase, cleanse the tarnish from this vajra and then mount it atop a victory banner. This will please the Victors of the past and make sentient beings happy, thus benefiting yourself and others.” With this, Nāropa vanished into space.

In accordance with the lama’s instructions, he washed the vajra with water from the vase and then mounted it atop a victory banner. Light from the vajra permeated the entire universe. As this light struck beings throughout the six realms, they were filled with a happiness devoid of suffering. In such a state they bowed down before Marpa and the victory banner and presented them offerings. The Victors then consecrated the banner.

Although Marpa thought that this dream was auspicious and was elated, he said to his wife, “Since dreams come out of nowhere I do not know their meaning. I am going to plow the field along the path down there. Prepare what I need. Bring me plenty of beer.” When she brought him a full jar of beer he said, “I will drink this. Bring more beer for a guest.” She brought another full jar of beer, which he buried in the ground and covered with his hat. While he plowed he drank the beer and waited.

Milarepa's Meeting with his Master

Meanwhile, beginning in the lower end of Lhodrak Milarepa asked everyone he met where the most excellent Marpa Lotsawa lived. He pressed on, continuing his inquiries. At last, he came upon a handsome youth who said , “Do you speak of my father? If so, my father bought gold with all our wealth and took it to India. He returned carrying many gem-studded volumes of scripture as gifts. He never worked in the past, but today father is plowing his field.”

Along the road a heavyset cleric with a stocky frame, wide-set eyes, and a resplendent air was plowing a field. The instant Milarepa saw him he was overcome with a feeling of inconceivable and inexpressible happiness in which the flickering perceptions of this life suddenly came to a halt. He remained there for a moment and then said, “It is said that the translator Marpa Lotsawa, a direct disciple of glorious Nāropa, dwells in this area. Where does he live?”

Marpa asked, “Where are you from? What is your business?” Milarepa replied, “I am a terrible sinner from the region of Latö in Tsang. Since he is so greatly renowned, I have come to request the genuine dharma.” “Very well then,” he said. “I will introduce you to Marpa. But meanwhile, plow this field of mine.” From under his hat he took out the beer he had buried in the ground and gave it to Milarepa. It was refreshing and delicious. The cleric went off saying that he should work hard to plow the field. Milarepa drank the remaining beer and then plowed with determination.

After a while, the youth Milarepa had spoken with among the cow-herds came to call him. “The lama says that you should come home to meet him,” he reported, and Milarepa was overjoyed. “The cleric has arranged an introduction for me,” he replied, “so I will plow the remainder of his field.”

Finally, Milarepa went to the lama’s home. The cleric he had met previously sat upon a carpet, raised high with two cushions and a woolen rug, and a pillow at his back. The lama said, “It is true that you really do not know who I am. I am Marpa. Prostrate yourself!”

Milarepa bowed down and, touching his feet to his head, he said, “Precious lama, I am a great sinner from Nyima Latö. I offer my body, speech, and mind, and I humbly request food, clothing, and dharma. Please look upon me with kindness so that I may attain buddhahood in this lifetime.” The lama replied, “Don’t go on bragging to me that you are a great sinner. You were not driven to commit sins on my behalf. What evil deeds have you done?”

Milarepa described his circumstances at length and he said, “So be it. In any case, it is good that you offered your body, speech, and mind. But you will not get food and clothing in addition to dharma. Either I will give you food and clothing and you will need to seek dharma from someone else, or I will give you dharma and you will seek food and clothing elsewhere. Choose between these two, but if you choose that I should give you dharma, whether or not you attain buddhahood in this life will depend on your own perseverance.”

“In that case,” replied Milarepa, “since I came to the lama to receive dharma, I shall seek food and clothing elsewhere.” As I was carrying my volume of scripture into the shrine room, he said, “Take your filthy book away. It would defile the sacred objects of my shrine.” It occurred to Milarepa that he responded this way because his text contained works of black magic. Milarepa kept it in his own quarters and he remained there for several days during which time the lama’s wife offered him enjoyable food. A few days passed in this way.

At that point, Milarepa went begging high and low throughout the Lhodrak valley. He thereby gained twenty-one khal loads of barley measured in the full dré vessels of Lhodrak. With fourteen, he purchased a copper kettle with four handles, free of rust and grime inside and out. He used one load to buy meat and beer, and poured the remaining six loads into a large sack. He then placed the kettle on top of the sack and carried them back to the lama’s residence.

Exhausted when he arrived, he dropped the load to the floor, which caused the room to tremble. The lama, who was eating his meal, jumped up and said, “You’re an energetic young tyro. Do you also intend to murder us by bringing down the house with your brute strength? You’re altogether unfit, so get rid of your barley.” And he pushed it away with his foot so that Milarepa was forced to take it outside for a while. Without thinking badly of him, Milarepa simply said to myself, “It seems that the lama has a fierce temper. I must watch how I behave and render service when in his presence.”

Then as an offering he presented the empty copper kettle and bowed down. Marpa held the kettle in his hands and for a while stood there pensive, his eyes half-shut. At last, tears trickled down his face and he said, “This is most auspicious. I offer it to Paṇchen Nāro.” He raised the kettle in his hands, sounded the handles, and struck it with a switch, ringing it as loudly as he could. He then carried it in to his shrine room where he filled it with melted butter from the butter lamps and set it down. At that moment, Milarepa was overcome with revulsion for the world and stricken by an intense longing for dharma. He repeatedly begged the lama to impart the dharma and his oral instructions.

The lama replied, “I have a great many faithful disciples coming from Ü and Tsang. The inhabitants of Yamdrok Taklung and Ling attack them, stealing their provisions and offerings with impunity. Cast hailstorms upon these two regions. This, too, will be religious work and I shall then grant you the oral instructions.”

Milarepa cast terrible hailstorms upon those two regions. Then he requested the oral instructions.

“Was it for these meager bits of hail you cast that I brought back the dharma from India with such difficulty? If you need dharma no matter the cost: the highlanders of Lhodrak have attacked my disciples coming from Nyal Loro and they also show great contempt for me. You, who claim to possess great magic, cast black magic upon these men. When signs of its success appear, I shall grant you the oral instructions of Paṇchen Nāro that I possess, which bring about awakening in one life and one body.”

As per Marpa's wish, Milarepa cast magic and the highlanders fought among themselves. Many belligerent men perished at the point of a sword. Seeing this the lama said, “It is true you possess great magic, just as you claimed,” and so he gave him the name Great Magician. Then Milarepa requested the oral instructions on awakening for attaining buddhahood. “Hah!” he replied. “Was it to reward the evil deeds you committed that I went to India without regard for my life, that I offered gold without concern for my wealth, and thereby was able to request the oral teachings that are the living breath of the ḍākinīs? You say you need them— that must be a joke, and a feeble one at that. This makes me laugh! If I were anyone else, I would kill you! Now restore the harvest of the Yamdrok people and heal all of the highlanders. If you do that, I shall grant the oral instructions. Otherwise, don’t come see me again.”

The lama’s wife consoled him as he fell into deep despair and shed many tears. The next day, the lama came and said, “Last night I was quite hard on you, but do not be disheartened. Do not be impatient, for I give the oral instructions slowly. You are hardworking, so help build a tower for me to present to my son Darma Dodé. When you are finished, I will grant you the oral instructions and also provide you with clothing and provisions.”

“What will happen to me if I die before then without the dharma?” asked Milarepa.

“I will see to it that you do not die before then,” he replied. “I do not possess dharma instructions empty of promise. Since you show tremendous perseverance, if you can meditate on my oral instructions, you will demonstrate whether or not you can become a buddha in this life. My lineage possesses a transmission of blessings unlike any other.” After the lama gave this comforting advice, Milarepa's mind was set at ease.

Milarepa's hard apprenticeship

Standing on an eastern spur of the mountain Marpa said, “Build a tower like so,” and Milarepa began building a round tower. When he was about halfway finished, the lama came and said, “I didn’t consider things earlier. Tear down this tower to its foundations and carry the earth and stones back to the places you found them.” Milarepa did so.

Then on a western spur of the mountain, the lama acted as if he were drunk on beer and said, “Now, build a tower like so,” and Milarepa began building a semicircular tower. Again, when he was about halfway finished, the lama came and said, “This also will not do. Here too, carry the earth and stones back to the places you found them.” And so he did.

They then went to a northern spur of the mountain and the lama said, “My dear Great Magician, the other day I was drunk and did not give proper instructions. Now, build a fine tower right here.” Milarepa replied, “Building towers and then tearing them down is nothing but toil for me and a waste of your resources. Please consider this carefully.” “This time, I am not drunk. I have considered the matter carefully. This will be called the ‘mantrika’s tower’ and should be triangular, so build it in that shape. You will not need to tear this one down.” I began building a triangular tower. When I had finished about one-third of the construction, the lama arrived. “Great Magician, whose tower are you building? Who gave you instructions?” he demanded. “Surely the lama himself ordered the tower for his son,” Milarepa replied.

He said, “I don’t recall giving any such instructions. If what you say is indeed true, I must be either absentminded or completely crazy.” “At the time,” Milarepa reminded him, “I feared something like this might happen and I requested that you carefully consider the matter. You said that you had considered it carefully, and that this time I wouldn’t need to tear it down. I clearly remember this.”

“Well then,” the lama replied, “who is your witness of this? Did you intend to lock me up here in this tower, which looks like a triangular magic dungeon, and cast your spells? I have neither plundered your estate nor squandered your patrimony. If that is not the case and you indeed desire dharma, then, since the local guardians are displeased, carry the tower’s earth and stones back to the places you found them. Then if you want the dharma, I shall grant it. If you won’t do it, then leave.” Speaking in this way, he worked himself into a rage.

Milarepa was overcome by deep depression but still yearned for dharma. So in accordance with the lama’s instructions, for the triangular tower as well, he carried the earth and stones back to the places he had found them.

Meanwhile, a sore appeared on his back. He thought, “If I show it to the lama, he will only scold me. If I show it to the lady, it will look like I’m complaining about my work.” So he kept the sore to himself and wept. Then he called upon the lady to help him request the dharma. She went before the lama and said, “I know now that you are insufferable since you have assigned such pointless work on these towers. Be compassionate and grant Great Magician the dharma.”

He replied, “Prepare a good meal and then bring him to me.” Carrying the meal with her, the lady brought Milarepa before the lama. “Great Magician,” he said, “do not accuse me, as you did yesterday, of a deception I did not commit. If you want the dharma, I shall grant it.” He gave me the transmission and vows of ordinary refuge. He added, “That is all called ordinary dharma. If you wish for the extraordinary oral instructions of Secret Mantra, you must act in this way.” Then he narrated a brief account of Nāropa’s life and his practice of austerities, concluding, “It will be difficult for you to live up to such an example.” This engendered a powerful faith that moved him to tears, and he resolved to do whatever the lama commanded.

Several days passed and the lama asked that he attend him during a walk, which he did. Milarepa and his master reached the land protected by the lama’s paternal relatives. Marpa said, “Now, in this place you shall build a square tower, pale gray in color, nine stories tall, with a spire reaching the tenth story. It will never be torn down. When it is finished, I will give you the oral instructions. You may then enter meditation retreat and I will supply your provisions.”

“In that case,” I replied, “might the lady be present as a witness to these promises?”

“Very well,” said the lama. He then drew an outline for the foundation and Milarepa invited the lama’s wife. In the presence of both lama and lady he said, “I have already built three towers and I have torn them down. The first time, the lama said he had not considered the matter. The second time, he said he was drunk. The third time, he asked if he were absentminded or completely crazy. When I reminded him of the instructions he had given me, he asked who was my witness and then scolded me at length. This time I have invited the lady as a witness to these promises, so please attest to them.”

The lady replied, “It is fine for me to serve as witness, but the lama is a strong-willed judge and will not likely consider my testimony.“

The lama said to his wife, “You shall serve as a witness. I will act as I have promised. I will not have you raise objections to serving in this way.”

Then Milatrepa laid the foundation for a square tower. While he was building the walls, Ngoktön Chödor of Zhung, Tsurtön Wangé of Dol, and Metön Tsönpo of Tsangron playfully rolled a boulder into place as a foundation stone. When Milarepa had reached the second story beside the main door, Marpa arrived. He looked everything over and was pleased. Then, pointing a finger at the stone that had been rolled into place by his three senior disciples, he asked, “Great Magician, where did this stone come from?” Milarepa replied, “Your three senior heart-son disciples playfully brought it here.”

“In that case, their stone is not an appropriate addition to your work on the tower. Remove the stone and carry it back to the place it came from.”

“But you promised that this tower would not be torn down,” replied Milarepa. “That is so. But it is not fitting that my disciples, who are practicing the two stages of yoga, be pressed into service as your servants. Don’t tear down the entire structure, but remove the stone and return it to the place it came from.”

So he tore down the tower from the top down and returned the stone to its place. “Now,” the lama said, “once again fetch the boulder and set it down as a foundation stone.”

At that time, Metön Tsönpo of Tsangron came to request the great initiation of Cakrasamvara. The lama’s wife said, “This time, you should try by all means to obtain initiation.”

Milarepa thought, “So far, I have built the tower without help carrying so much as a stone the size of a goat head, a basketful of earth, a single bucket of water, or a spadeful of mud. So now he will grant me initiation.” He offered prostrations and then sat down in line for the initiation.

“Great Magician, what do you have for the initiation fee?” asked the lama. Milarepa replied, “I have the lama’s word that he would grant initiation and oral instructions when I completed my service of building his son’s tower. That’s why I am seated here so he may grant them.”

The lama said, “I did not acquire the initiations and oral instructions from India with such difficulty in order for you to make a little tower no bigger than my forearm. If you have something for the initiation fee, bring it. Otherwise, don’t sit in line with those about to receive the initiation of profound Secret Mantra.” He then slapped Milarepa, grabbed him by the hair, and threw him out.

At that moment he wanted to die. He sat crying the entire night. The lama’s wife then appeared and said, “The lama declares, ‘The dharma teachings I carried back from India were brought for the benefit of beings.’ Were even a dog to appear before him, he would teach it dharma and then dedicate the merit of having done so. I don’t know why he won’t accept you. But in any case, don’t form wrong ideas about him.”

In the morning, the lama came and said, “Great Magician, from today on stop your work on the tower. Instead, build a covered walk at its base with twelve pillars and an inner sanctuary. When they’re done, I will give you initiation and oral instructions.”

With that Milarepa laid the foundations for a covered walk and began construction. All the while, the lama’s wife provided him with wellseasoned food and enough beer to keep him slightly drunk. Like that she comforted him and showed him great affection.

As the covered walk neared completion, Tsurtön Wangé of Dol came to request the great Guhyasamāja initiation. The lama’s wife said, “Now son, you should by all means receive the initiation.” She gave me a ball of butter wrapped in leather, a bolt of woolen cloth, and a small copper kettle. Milarepa presented them as offerings and then sat down in line for the initiation.

The lama said, “Great Magician, what do you have for the initiation fee that allows you to sit in line?”

“A ball of butter, a bolt of woolen cloth, and a small copper kettle,” he replied.

The lama said, “Those things were already given to me by other patrons. You may not use my own possessions as your initiation fee. If you have something of your own, bring it. Otherwise, do not linger in line for my initiation.” He stood up and, rebuking him at length, kicked him and threw him outside. Milarepa wanted to sink into the earth. He thought, “I killed many people casting black magic and destroyed many crops sending hail. Could this be the karmic ripening of those deeds? Does the lama know I will never be fit for the dharma? Is it because he has so little compassion for me that he does not teach me? Whatever the reason, what’s the use of a human body without the dharma, which only collects misdeeds? Should I kill myself? Should I kill myself?”

The lama’s wife consoled him for a long time. He spent the entire night weeping. In the morning the lama came and said, “Now, finish raising the covered walk and the tower and then I will give you initiation and the oral instructions.”

Milarepa resumed work on the tower and was nearing completion of the walk when another sore appeared on the small of his back. His back festered with sores while pus and blood oozed from the three wounds. Seeing this, the Lama's wife said to her husband, “Precious lama, all this work Great Magician is doing on the tower has covered him with open wounds. Three have formed on his back, oozing incredible amounts of blood and pus. In the past I have heard of and even seen such wounds appear on the backs of horses and donkeys, but I have never seen or even heard of them appearing on the back of a man. Since he is so pitiful, please give this child the dharma. You did say at the outset that you would give the dharma when the tower was finished.”

“That is just what I said,” replied the lama. “When the tower is ten stories high I will teach the dharma. But where are the ten stories?”

“He has built a covered walk that exceeds ten stories in scope.”

“I will give him dharma when the ten stories are complete. Does he really have a sore?”

In anguish, the lady replied, “Your power has blinded you to the truth. Not only does he have a sore, his back is festering with sores.” And she hurried away. “Well then,” called out the lama, “send him up.”

The lama said, “Great Magician, show me your sores.” He revealed them and he looked carefully. At last, the lama said, “My lord Nāropa underwent twelve great trials and twelve minor trials, twenty-four different trials meted out upon his own body, all of which surpass yours. As for me, I served Nāropa without regard for my life or my wealth. Therefore, if you yearn for the dharma, continue to work on the tower without bragging about your own activities.”

“He is right,” I thought. From my clothing, he fashioned a pad for my sores and said, “I also do this for horses and donkeys, so use the pad for your wounds and continue to carry the earth and stones.”

Milarepa replied, “What use is a pad for wounds when my entire back is festering with sores?”

“It will help to keep out the dirt,” he said.

Thinking this was the lama’s command, Milarepa carried earth in a vessel in front of him and mixed the mud plaster. Seeing him, the lama thought, “A person who carries out whatever the lama commands is most extraordinary,” and he secretly shed tears.

Milarepa's sores worsened and he fell ill. He sent for the lama’s wife and asked that he be given the dharma, or at least be allowed to rest until the sores healed. She presented this to the lama, who replied, “He shall not receive the dharma until the tower is finished. If he has strength to work, he should do what he can. If he doesn’t, let him rest.”

When his sores had mostly healed, the lama, making no mention of the dharma, said, “Great Magician, it is time to resume work on the tower.” As he was preparing to do so, the lama’s wife said, “Let’s make a plan for you to obtain the dharma.” They talked it over. To the lady he said, “Please help send me off,” and he pretended to leave. The lama’s wife called out, “I shall ask the lama and surely now you will receive the dharma. Whatever happens, you must stay.” And she pretended to keep me from going.

Witnessing this, the lama said, “Dakmema, what are you two doing?” She replied, “Great Magician once came from a distant land to see the lama and devote himself to dharma, yet when he arrived he was not granted the teachings. Instead, he received only scolding and abuse. I agreed to help him secure the dharma from you and am trying to keep him from leaving.”

“I see,” said the lama and, stepping out, he repeatedly slapped Milarepa's face. “You already offered me your body, speech, and mind right when you first came to see me. Where do you think you’re going now? Surely you aren’t leaving. I am master of your body, speech, and mind, and in fact I could cut them into a hundred pieces. If you’re leaving in spite of that, tell me why you are carrying flour from my house.” Marpa threw him down and beat him. Then he went inside carrying the sack of flour.

Milarepa's despair had no end, like that of a mother who has lost her only son. Unable to bear the lama’s overwhelming presence, Milarepa retreated inside where he sat weeping. She said, “Try what you may, the lama will not grant you the dharma. But by autumn’s end, he surely will. Until then, I will do so.”

She gave him the meditation method of Vajravārāhī. It brought about no inner experience but it helped his mind a great deal and lifted his spirits. He rendered her service while she performed her summer chores, standing by her stool when she milked the cows and by her pan when she roasted barley on the hearth. He felt at that time that he must seek another lama. But thinking it over carefully, he was convinced that no other lama but this one had the oral instructions for attaining buddhahood in one life and one body. He thought, “Even if I don’t attain buddhahood right now, at least I have ceased accumulating karma for rebirth in the lower realms later on. When I have suffered trials for the sake of the dharma as did Nāropa, the lama will be pleased and I will obtain the oral instructions. Then I will meditate on them and achieve buddhahood in this life.”

At that time, Ngoktön Chödor of Zhung and his retinue arrived carrying many offerings in order to request the great initiation of Hevajra. The lama’s wife said to Milarepa, “If the service you have rendered so far through your work on the tower is not enough, and the lama is interested only in wealth, then this time present an offering and you shall receive the initiation.“ She gave him a beautiful turquoise, large and reddish, that she kept as a private possession. Milarepa offered it to the lama and said, “This time, you must please grant me initiation.” Then he sat down in line for the initiation.

The lama examined the turquoise, turning it around. “Where did you get this, Great Magician?” he asked.

“The lama’s wife gave it to me,” replied Milarepa.

“Call Dakmema here,” he said, smiling. Milarepa requested the lady to come. The lama asked her, “Dakmema, where did we get this turquoise?” The lama’s wife offered many prostrations. Then she said, “This turquoise has never been the master’s property. When my parents first sent me to the lama he went into a rage. My parents told me, ‘Tuck this away without showing anyone. If you and your husband should separate you will need it.’ They gave it to me as my own private property and, with an overwhelming feeling of intense compassion, I have given it to this child. I beg the father to accept it. Look upon Great Magician with kindness and grant him initiation."

The lama said, “Through Dakmema’s scheming a fine turquoise almost fell into a stranger’s hands. You haven’t thought carefully, Dakmema. If I am wholly your master, I am surely master of the turquoise. Great Magician, if you have wealth, bring it here and take the initiation. The turquoise is mine.” I lingered, wondering if the lady might renew her request. But the lama turned furious and sprang up saying, “What impudence! I sent you away but you did not go.” He threw him facedown and everything went dark. Then he threw me on my back and I saw stars. Then he grabbed a staff, but Ngok held him back. Meanwhile, in terror Milarepa jumped through a window and escaped. Although the lama was actually concerned, he pretended to be angry. I was not harmed but was so distraught that I resolved to kill myself. Then the lama’s wife came up to me in tears and said, “Great Magician, do not despair. Never has there been a disciple more beloved or dear than you. It is right for you to request dharma from another lama. I shall make preparations for you to meet with one and provide you with offerings and provisions for religious practice.”

In the morning, the lama called me before him. I went, wondering if he would grant the dharma. “Are you not dissatisfied that I would not grant you initiation yesterday? Is your opinion of me not shaken?” he asked. “My faith in the lama has not been shaken,” he replied. “I believed it was in response to the terrible sins and defilements of my past actions, and I was overcome with despair.” He wept.

The lama said, “What do you hope to gain by putting on an exaggerated display of tears for me? Get out!”

Stepping out in a state of heartrending misery, he thought, “I had provisions and gifts when I carried out evil deeds. When I practice dharma I have no wealth at all. This is what has befallen me. If I had even half the gold I used when I practiced evil deeds, I would obtain initiation and oral instructions. Now, without offerings, this lama will not grant instructions. Even if I went to another lama, I would not find one who did not require offerings. Without wealth, I will never get the dharma. A human body without dharma fosters evil deeds. I want to kill myself. What to do? What to do?

The lama said, “If you wish for the dharma from your heart with such restlessness and urgency, you must be willing to give even your life for it. Therefore, complete the remaining three stories of the tower and then I shall grant you the oral instructions. Otherwise, since it is a burden to feed you and since you seem to have somewhere to go, then leave.”

Marpa had a custom of preparing an extensive feast offering of ritual cakes on the tenth day of the lunar month. On this feast, beer was served to everyone including Marpa. The resident disciples became drunk. As for the lama, with many people offering him strong beer, he became quite drunk and fell into a deep sleep.

Meanwhile the lady took the lama’s seal, as well as Nāropa’s six ornaments and rosary made of ruby, from his residence. She had a letter already prepared that was made to look like the lama’s own written statement, and she affixed the seal on top of it. She then wrapped the articles in a fine cloth, sealed it with wax, and handed them to Milarepa, saying, “Act as if these were entrusted to you by the lama. Offer them to lama Ngokpa and request the dharma.”

Milarepa arrived at Riwo Kyu ngding in Zhung. Lama Ngokpa was explaining The Two Divisions to his resident disciples. He had just reached the passage:

I am the expounder and I am dharma.
I am the disciple endowed with good qualities.
I am the world teacher and the goal.
I am the world and beyond the world.
I am the nature of coemergent joy.

At that moment Milarepa made prostrations from a distance. The lama removed his hat, returned a greeting, and said, “This is the manner of homage used by disciples in the lineage of lama Marpa. The auspicious connection of his arrival at this juncture in the dharma talk is most excellent. He will become master of all the dharma. Go ask who he is.”

One of the resident disciples came up to Milarepa and, recognizing him, asked, “Why have you come here?”

“Lama Marpa is very busy. Since I am the only one he hasn’t had time to teach, I’ve come here to request the dharma. He has sent as his gifts Nāropa’s ornaments and his ruby rosary.” The disciple went up to the lama and said, “It’s Great Magician.” Then he recounted my story. Overjoyed, the lama exclaimed, “Having Lord Nāropa’s ornaments and rosary come to my home is as rare and as marvelous as the Udumbara flower. We must greet them. We shall stop at this fine place in the teaching. Disciples, fetch parasols, victory banners, and musical instruments, and come quickly. We must salute the layman Great Magician.”

A procession of disciples came to greet him carrying an incredible display of parasols, victory banners, and musical instruments. They reached the lama’s chambers. Milarepa offered prostrations and handed over the gifts. Lama Ngokpa's eyes filled with tears and he held the gifts up to his head and received their blessings. Next he placed these excellent sacred objects on the shrine, giving them a place of central importance among very fine offerings.

Then he read the letter aloud:

I am entering closed retreat and Great Magician is impatient. I am sending him to you to request the dharma, so grant him initiation and teach him the oral instructions. As tokens of my permission to do this I am sending Nāropa’s ornaments and his rosary made of ruby.

Lama Ngokpa said, “Since this is the lama’s command, I will certainly give you initiation and oral instructions. Many disciples are coming to me from Kham, Dakpo, Kongpo, and Yarlung. Evil men from Yepo and Yemo in Dol steal their dharma provisions with impunity. Cast a hailstorm upon them. Then I will give you initiation and oral instructions.”

Milarepa thought, “I am destined to perform evil deeds. If I cast a hailstorm, I will receive the genuine dharma but will also accrue the karma of such a heinous crime. If I don’t cast one, it will amount to breaking the lama’s command and I will not get the dharma. There is no way I can avoid casting a hailstorm.”

He gathered the materials, taking with him ritual substances charged by mantras, and left for the countryside. There he set to work and hail began to fall. In Yepo, he lodged in the home of an old woman, taking shelter from the rain. Lightning flashed. Thunder clapped. A dark cloud gathered and one by one, then two by two, hailstones began to fall. Weeping, the old lady said, “What shall I eat when my crops are beaten down by hail?”

“Surely, I am committing an evil deed,” thought Milarepa. Then he said, “Mistress, quickly draw the shape of your field.” “It is like this,” she said, and she drew an elongated triangle. He performed a yogic gaze and covered the drawing with an iron pan. A tip of the triangle remained uncovered and that part of the field was devastated by fierce winds. Milarepa was certain about the hailstorm and so he went to look. The central mountain slopes of the two regions were all swept into deep ravines. All the other fields were completely washed away. But the old woman’s field was left standing fresh and unharmed except for the tip, which was struck by hail and then flattened by the rushing flood.

Then Milarepa headed back. Along the way he met an old shepherd and his child whose cows and sheep had been carried away by the flood. To them he said, “I did this. Do not attack lama Ngokpa’s disciples. If you attack them I will continue to cast hailstorms like this.” They conveyed this threat and the two regions thus respectfully paid reverence to the lama. They became his patrons and later offered him their service.

He then returned to the Lama and said, “Precious lama, I came here for the genuine dharma, but have done only evil deeds. Look upon me, a terrible sinner, with compassion.” And he cried. The lama replied, “Layman Great Magician, you need not worry so much. We in the lineage of Nāropa and Maitrīpa have an oral instruction through which terrible sinners may swiftly become a buddha. All of the beings now killed by the hailstorm will in the future be born as the first members of your retinue in your pure realm when you are a completely perfect buddha. Be happy that until then, through my power, they will not take rebirth in an unfortunate realm. If you do not believe me, watch this.” After resting in contemplation for a moment, he snapped his fingers and all the corpses suddenly came back to life. In that instant some flew up in the sky, while others scurried on the ground, each going back to its own home. Milarepa saw the lama as an actual buddha and he thought, “How wonderful! How wonderful! It is indeed gratifying that, on this occasion, so many sentient beings have died.”

The lama then imparted the Hevajra initiation. After he gave the oral instructions, Milarepa fixed up a south-facing cave on the side of a ravine overlooking the lama’s residence. Then he sealed himself in. The lama gave dharma instructions through a small window and he meditated without distraction. Since he had not received Marpa’s permission, no experience whatsoever occurred.

On one occasion, the lama said, “Layman Great Magician, have such and such signs appeared?”

“None whatsoever have appeared,” replied Milarepa.

“What are you saying? As long as there is no stain of broken commitments in my lineage, the qualities of experience and realization develop quickly. It could not be otherwise. You have come with faith in me. If you didn’t receive Marpa’s permission, why did he send the gifts? What’s going on? In any case, apply yourself and meditate.”

Milarepa was paralyzed with fear. He wondered whether he should divulge the real story. But lacking the courage to speak, he thought, “I must, by all means, remain lama Marpa’s disciple.” Then I applied myself and stayed in meditation.

Meanwhile, a letter from lama Marpa arrived at Ngokpa’s residence. It said: Here, I am presently in need of tamarisk cane roofing for my son’s tower. Send ahead an offering of as many loads of tamarisk cane as you can. I shall all at once raise the tamarisk roofing and golden spire, consecrate the tower, and celebrate Darma Dodé’s coming-of-age. Come attend those yourself. Furthermore, you have a certain evil person who belongs to me. Bring him as well at that time.

Lama Ngok came to the window of Milarepa's cave and, showing him the letter, said, “From the way this letter describes me as having an evil person, it seems that you did not receive the lama’s permission.”

Milarepa replied, “I did not really have the lama’s consent. The lama’s wife gave me the letter and the religious items and then sent me here.”

“What’s this? In that case, the work we’ve been doing is pointless. If you didn’t receive the lama’s permission then the qualities of meditation will never manifest. There is nothing to be done. He ordered you to return. Will you go or not?”

“I request to go as your servant,” I said.

There was also a message for Milarepa from the Lama's wife: “Now the lama will give initiation and oral instructions even to you, son, so come with lama Ngok.” Milarepa was overjoyed and danced back and forth in the cave.

Lama Ngok gathered all of his household items, including all the religious representations of body, speech, and mind—leaving behind only the blessed items given by lama Marpa himself—as well as his gold, turquoise, silks, and garments. He ordered me to leave an old she-goat with a broken leg that could not follow the herd. Apart from that, he took all his livestock from the stable and the meadow. His wife gave Milarepa a leather bag of soft cheese and said, “Take this as a gift for Lady Dakmema.”

Then lama Ngokpa, together with his wife and retinue, set out and arrived at the lower reaches of Drowolung. The lama said, “Layman Great Magician, go on ahead and inform the lady that we are coming. See if she might send some beer.” Milarepa went to make the request. The lama was on the upper terrace of his residence, looking to the east, and seated in meditative practice. “Revered lama,” cried Milarepa, “it is right that you will not accept my prostrations in order to punish me. Lama Ngok is arriving, carrying as offerings all of the valuables he possesses: religious representations of body, speech, and mind, gold and turquoise, as well as all the livestock he owns, crossbred yaks, horses, and so forth. It seems that he would like some beer to welcome him, so I request that you please send him some.”

Rising in anger, he snapped his fingers and said in a fierce voice, “When I returned from India I brought with me, from among the inconceivable collections of the Buddha’s teaching, the extraordinary heart-instructions that extract the essential meaning of the four classes of tantra. At that time, not so much as a lame bird came to greet me. It is not possible that I, a great lotsawa, should greet him simply because he is coming, driving with him a few straggling animals. Now go back.”

Lama Ngokpa presented his offerings and said, “Precious lama, in general terms the lama is master of my three gates. But now on this occasion I offer the lama all of the livestock I own except for one lame milking goat that, for one thing, is the grandmother of the entire herd and is thus quite old. But more importantly, she has an injured leg and could not get here. Please look upon me with compassion and grant initiation and all the foremost oral instructions, in particular the instructions of the aural scrolls.” He then offered prostrations.

Lama Marpa appeared pleased and said, “Indeed, as you say, my foremost profound initiations and oral instructions are, generally speaking, the short path of the Vajra Vehicle, the oral instructions by which one becomes a buddha in this life without having to wait for innumerable eons. In particular, the instructions of the aural scrolls are restricted by the command seal of the lama and ḍākinīs. Thus they will be difficult to obtain if you do not offer the goat, even though she is old and infirm. I have already given the other oral instructions to you.”

A wave of laughter erupted from all those seated there, but lama Ngokpa again asked, “If I bring the old milk goat and offer her, will you lift the command seal and grant the instructions?”

“If you bring the goat and offer it, I shall.”

In the morning, when everyone had dispersed, lama Ngokpa set out alone. He returned carrying the goat on his back and offered it to the lama. Marpa then promised to impart many of the foremost initiations and oral instructions to him. Later he did so.

Later, Marpa asked Ngokpa, “what is your reason for granting initiation and oral instructions to the evil man called Töpaga?” He glanced at the staff. Terrified, Lama Ngokpa offered prostrations, saying, “Precious lama, you sent to me your letter directing me to confer initiation upon Great Magician and to teach him the oral instructions, together with the ornaments of Nāropa and his rosary made of ruby.” Pointing a menacing finger at me, the lama said, “Where did you get those objects?” My heart ached as if it were being torn out and I was so terrified I could hardly utter a word. With a trembling voice I said, “The lady gave them to me.”

The lama jumped up, grabbed the acacia-wood staff, and went to beat his wife. She then fled inside the shrine room and shut the door. The lama scratched at the door several times and finally returned to his seat. I had fled at the same time as the lady and, overcome with sadness and despair, I sat secretly weeping. I saw lama Ngokpa when he appeared outside and begged him to take me along as his servant. He said, “If I were to take you without receiving the lama’s permission, things would only end up as they did today and we would both be miserable. So for the moment, stay.“

“Well then,” replied Milarepa, “it’s on account of my great sins and obscurations that such misery has fallen upon you, lama, and your lady. Since I will not obtain the dharma in this life, and since I have been accumulating terrible sins, I will kill myself. When I am reborn in a future life with a precious human body, I beg that you hold me with compassion.”

As I was about to kill myself, lama Ngokpa restrained me. Weeping, he said, “Layman Great Magician, don’t do such a thing! You must understand that according to the tradition of Secret Mantra, the Victor’s ultimate teachings, our aggregates, constituents, and the sense fields are deities. Performing transference before it’s time carries the offense of killing a deity. Killing oneself is an even graver sin. Even in the tradition of the sutras, there is no worse negative act than taking one’s own life. It is still possible that the lama will give you the dharma. If he does not, you will certainly obtain it from another lama.”

Milarepa was overcome with such anguish that he thought, “Is my heart made of iron? If not, it will burst and I shall die.”

After a while Marpa rose from his contemplation. He said, “Those called ‘disciples of Secret Mantra’ must be like that, and he has turned out to be just so. Now I feel compassion for my disciples, so call them.” One of the resident disciples went to call lama Ngokpa. He approached and said, “The lama is now calm and has sent me to call you in, so please come.” Milarepa sat there weeping. Lama Ngokpa also stayed, and to the resident disciple he said, “If I do not stay here, there is the danger that he will do something terrible.” Marpa sent word that he would accept the Great Magician:, “On this occasion, the chief guest is to be Great Magician. Dakmema, go and call him.”

The lady arrived beaming with a smile and said, “Layman Great Magician, this morning it seems that the lama will accept you as a disciple. The lama said this time you are to be the guest of honor and he sent me to call you. It is a sign that he is moved by deep compassion. He did not even scold me. Rejoice and let’s go.”

Milarepa wondered whether this time it was true and, wrongly filled with doubt, he went in and took his place in the row of guests.

The lama said, “If we examine things carefully, none of us is at fault. From my side, I have only tormented Great Magician in order to purify his negative deeds. Had his work on the tower been in my own interest, I would have directed him more gently. So, in this matter I was correct. As for Dakmema, to begin with she is a woman. She also has tremendous compassion and could not bear the situation, so she too was correct. But forging the letter and sending the gift of religious objects were serious offenses. As for Ngok Chöku Dorjé, you were correct, as you have stated. However, return the religious objects for a short time. I will give them to you later. As for Great Magician, he was burning with desire for the dharma, so he was correct to obtain it by any means possible. Ngok did not know that Dakmema had sent a forged letter. Thus I see no reason to punish him, even though he granted Great Magician initiation and oral instructions.

“Although I may have let loose a flood of heated and misguided words, they were not like those of a worldly person. However they may have appeared, from the perspective of the dharma they were intended to wear down self-importance and so, in essence, they lead to the path of enlightenment.

“Had I the opportunity to punish this son of mine nine times, he would have become a buddha devoid of physical remainder and without needing to take another human birth. Since this did not happen, some slight residue of negativities and obscurations remains, brought about by Dakmema’s foolishness. Still, your major negativities have been eradicated by means of eight great agonies and many minor adversities. Now I shall accept you as a disciple and give you the oral instructions. I shall then give you whatever supplies you may need for retreat and set you to meditate. So rejoice!”

At that moment Milarepa wondered, “Is this a dream or is it really happening? If it is a dream, I would be happy never to awaken.” He was filled with immeasurable joy at this thought, and he offered prostrations while shedding tears of pure delight. Finally, in a festive mood, the entire assembly held a ritual feast.

Milarepa is granted the Dharma

The lama said, “I shall give you the common vows of individual liberation.” After his hair was shaved and his clothes changed, the lama said, “Your name was originally foretold by Nāropa in a dream I had before we met.” He gave him the name Mila Dorjé Gyaltsen and then granted him the vows of a layman and the bodhisattva precepts. Then he offered him a skull cup of inner offerings with the special blessings of his mental powers. Everyone thus clearly saw the oblation bubbling with light rays of the five colors. He first offered it to the lamas and chosen deities. Next Marpa himself partook. Then he gave the skull cup to Milarepa who emptied it completely.

“This is an auspicious omen,” said the lama. “Tasting the nectar of my inner offerings is greater than all four initiations of some other lineages. However, starting tomorrow, I shall give you the ripening initiations of Secret Mantra.”

Then Marpa constructed an extensive mandala of Cakrasaṃvara with sixty-two deities. When he revealed the mandala for bestowing the initiation, he pointed to the circle of colored powder. “This is called the symbolic mandala. The actual mandala is there,” he said and he pointed up to the sky. Milarepa clearly saw Cakrasaṃvara surrounded by the heroes and ḍākinīs of the twenty-four lands, the thirty-two sites, and the eight great charnel grounds, all vividly present. At that moment, the lama and the deities of the mandala in a single voice conferred upon Milarepa the secret name Pel Zhepa Dorjé. The lama imparted at length the oral transmission of the tantra and then taught the complete practice of the quintessential instructions along with the performance of rituals.

Then, placing his hand on his head, he said, “Son, I knew from the very beginning that you were a worthy disciple. The night before your arrival at my home, I had a dream that was a sign you would benefit the Buddha’s teaching. Thus you appeared as a disciple given to me by the lama and ḍākinīs. This being the case, I went to greet you in the guise of a plowman. You drank all the beer I gave you and plowed the entire field, signs that you would be a worthy recipient of the oral instructions and that you would perfectly master them.

The four handles on the copper kettle you offered are signs of the coming of my four famous disciples. The vessel’s lack of blemishes such as grime is a sign that your mind will be little blemished by mental afflictions and that your body will gain control in the bliss-warmth of yogic heat. Because you offered the kettle empty, you will have only meager sustenance while you meditate. But in order to bring about great resources for you later in life and for your line of disciples, and in order that worthy disciples be satisfied by the elixir of the oral instructions, I filled it with melted butter from my offering lamps. In order to secure your great renown, I rang it as loudly as I could.

In order to purify your karmic obscurations, I repeatedly drove you to despair with many cruelties such as burdening you with constructing towers of pacification, enrichment, subjugation, and destruction; and kicking you out of the initiation line. Yet you never gave way to wrong views. Therefore the disciples in your lineage will, in the beginning, have all the essential qualities of a student, including faith, diligence, wisdom, and compassion. In the middle they will have little attachment to the pleasures of this life and, with perseverance in the face of austerity, will show great fortitude while meditating in the mountains. Finally, endowed with experience, blessings, knowledge, and kindness, they will become fully qualified lamas.“

The lama directed Milarepa to exert himself in practice. Providing him with ample supplies, he then set him to meditate at Taknya Cliff in Lhodrak. During that period, Milarepa filled an offering lamp with melted butter and lit it. Then he placed it on his own head and meditated day and night without moving his body until the lamp was extinguished.

Eleven months passed. Then the lama and his wife came, bringing lavish supplies for a ritual feast. The lama said, “Son, for you to meditate for eleven months without your cushion growing cold is most excellent. Now tear down the cell door and come beside your old father to rest your weary body and discuss the experiences you have had.”

Feeling great faith and devotion toward the lama, I knelt down and joined my palms in prayer.

Then he said, “I have understood that, due to the fundamental condition of ignorance, the body comprised of flesh and blood fully formed, together with its perceiving consciousness, initially coalesce through the twelve links of dependent origination, formations and so forth. For those with merit who desire liberation, it is a ferry to a future life of freedoms and endowments. For those with evil karma who amass sinful deeds, it is a guide leading to the lower realms. This is a truly decisive moment, the boundary between journeying up or down, and one that determines the profit or loss leading to lasting good or lasting evil far into the future.

I first sought refuge in the lama and three jewels and then trained properly in the discipline. I have understood that in such a context, the source of all goodness and happiness is the lama. Therefore, the primary and essential point is to follow whatever he commands and to maintain the sacred commitments purely. Then, intensively contemplating the difficulty of attaining the freedoms and endowments of a human rebirth, death and impermanence, the causes and effects of actions, and the faults of life’s round, one is overwhelmed by the desire for liberation from life’s round. One should then rely on the appropriate vows of individual liberation, which are like the foundation.

Upon such a basis, one gradually ascends through the religious vehicles, guarding as closely as one’s eyes the disciplines they describe. If transgressed, the vows must be restored. “But since it is a mistake to practice the Lower Vehicle seeking happiness and peace for oneself, through the desire to free all sentient beings from life’s round in its entirety, one generates the mind set on enlightenment. With love and compassion, everything one does is dedicated to the benefit of others—this, I have understood, is arousing the attitude of enlightenment according to the Great Vehicle.

First, in the common Dialectics Vehicle, one sets out in search of the selflessness of persons. Employing numerous examples and reasons drawn from both scripture and logic, one does not find a self, and indeed one comes to realize the selflessness of persons. One must then rest the mind evenly within the state in which the self was not found. When it is brought to rest through various means, conceptual thoughts cease and the mind relaxes in a non-conceptual state. When months and years pass by without noticing and one needs to be informed of the time by others, then one has achieved serenity. One maintains this state by means of mindfulness, and without succumbing to mental sinking or torpor, one draws forth the vitality of awareness.

I have now understood that the experiences of emptiness, evenness, ineffability, and non-conceptuality gained by yogins through practice are the view of the stages of the path of the Secret Mantra Vajra Vehicle, which correspond to the four initiations. In order to actualize my understanding of these things I will mortify my body, deprive myself of food, and bridle my mind. Having done so, I will shape my perception and withstand even the possibility of death so that whatever happens I will recognize everything as having the same taste.

Delighted, the lama said, “I had hoped as much from you, and such hopes have been fulfilled.” The lady, also extremely pleased, said, “This son of mine has the fortitude and capability to have come this far.” After engaging in much dharma discussion, the lama and lady returned to their home.

About this time, the lama traveled to Üru in the north for the benefit of beings. One night, as he conducted a ritual feast at the home of Marpa Golek, a ḍākinī deciphered one of Nāropa’s symbolic teachings that he had not understood before then and encouraged him through signs. Thinking he should go to see Nāropa, Marpa returned to Drowolung. One night, while he was resting there for a few days, a woman appeared to Milarepa in a dream, blue in color, beautifully adorned in garments of pure silk and bone ornaments, her eyebrows and facial hair brilliant gold. “Son,” she said, “you already have the instructions on the Great Seal and the Six Dharmas through which one becomes a buddha by meditating for a long time. But you do not have the special instructions on Ejection and Transference through which one becomes a buddha by meditating for a single instant. Request it!” Then she disappeared.

Milarepa thought: "If it is a prophetic command of the ḍākinīs, I must by all means request Transference." Then he pulled down the mud wall of his cell and went to see the lama.

“Without maintaining strict retreat, there is a danger that obstacles may beset you,” said the lama. “Why have you come?”

Milarepa described the woman who appeared and what she said. “I don’t know if it is an obstacle or a prophetic command. If it is a prophetic command, then I have come to request that you grant the instructions on Transference.”

The lama reflected for a moment and then said, “The signs that appeared while I was in Üru in the north have also encouraged me to request these instructions. There may be other instructions as well that I do not know, so I will go request them.”

Milarepa reminded him of his advanced age, but he would not be dissuaded on any account. He exchanged his disciples’ offerings for gold. Then, carrying a vessel filled with gold, he set off for India.

Nāropa had departed to engage in yogic activity and Marpa intended to pursue him without regard for his own life. He interpreted numerous omens that foretold that they would meet. Praying fervently, he eventually met Nāropa in a dense forest and invited him to the hermitage of Pullahari where he requested instructions on Transference.

Paṇchen Nāropa asked, “Did you think of this yourself or did you receive a prophetic command?”

“I neither thought of it myself nor received a prophetic command. I have a disciple named Töpaga who received the prophetic command of a ḍākinī and he came to request it from me.”

“How marvelous. In the gloomy land of Tibet lives a man like the sun rising over the snows.” Raising his hands in prayer to the crown of his head, Nāropa continued:

In the gloomy darkness of the north
Lives the one called Milarepa
Like the sun rising over the snows.
To that man I bow down.

He closed his eyes and bowed his head three times. All the mountains, trees, and plants in India then bowed toward Tibet. Even now the mountains and trees of Pullahari bend in the direction of Tibet. Nāropa then imparted all the instructions of the ḍākinī aural transmission, and afterward he interpreted certain omens. Based upon the way Marpa prostrated, he received the prophecy that stated, “Although your family lineage will be short, your dharma lineage of enlightened activity will extend longer than the stretch of a river.” Marpa then returned to Tibet.

Marpa realized that he was advanced in age. For his senior disciples, the lama opened the treasure chest of dharma and oral instructions. By day he gave teachings and by night he set them in meditation. Everyone developed excellent meditative experience.

One evening during this period, while imparting the profound initiation of Nairātmyā, the lama contemplated which dharma transmission lineage and activity would be most suitable for each of his foremost disciples so that he might give them the appropriate instructions. He resolved to interpret the omens at dawn the next morning. At dawn, while resting in a state of luminosity, he observed his foremost disciples. He saw that Ngoktön Chödor of Zhung was studying how to explain several commentaries of the Hevajra Tantra; Tsurtön Wangé of Dol was meditating on Ejection; Metön Tsönpo of Tsangrong was meditating on Luminosity; and Milarepa was meditating on yogic heat. Thus he knew which dharma transmission lineage and activity was suitable for each one of them.

To lama Ngokpa he gave the heart-instructions on the method of explaining the tantras from the perspective of the six parameters and the four modes, strung together like pearls, as well as Nāropa’s six ornaments, his ruby rosary, a pair of ritual ladles for making burnt offerings, and an Indian commentarial text. Then he said, “Benefit beings by explaining the dharma.”

To Tsurtön Wangé of Dol he gave teachings on Ejection, likened to a bird flying though an open skylight, as well as Nāropa’s hair, fingernails, nectar pills, and a ritual crown of the five buddha families. Then he said, “Train in the practice of Ejection.”

To Metön Tsönpo of Tsangrong he gave instructions on Luminosity, likened to a burning lamp that dispels darkness, as well as Nāropa’s vajra, bell, hand drum, and skull cup lined with mother-of-pearl. Then he said, “Sever your ties during the intermediate state.”

To Milarepa he gave the exceptional instructions on yogic heat, likened to fire burning a pile of kindling, together with Maitrīpa’s hat and Nāropa’s garments. Then he said, “Wander among rocky mountain ranges and the snows, and gain experience in the view and in meditation.”

The senior disciples then departed, each to his own religious seat. To Milarepa the lama said, “As for you, stay with me a few years. I have special initiations and oral instructions yet to impart. You will need to consolidate your experience and realization in the presence of the lama. Therefore remain in strict retreat.”

Milarepa withdrew to Zangpuk, a cave prophesied by Nāropa. The lama and lady both treated him with great affection, sending a share of food from each of the ritual feast offerings they performed.

In retreat, Milarepa's spiritual practice proceeded well. Normally, he did not sleep, but at dawn one morning he fell asleep and had the following dream: He dreamt that he arrived at his village of Kyangatsa and found his house Kazhi Dunggyé cracked like the ear of an old donkey. Of the valuables inside, leaking water had damaged the sacred scriptures of the Ratnakūṭa. Of the fields outside, Orma Triangle was overgrown with weeds. Of his family, his elderly mother was dead and his sister had gone off wandering as a beggar.

He called out the names of his mother and sister and wept. When he awoke his pillow was damp with tears. Thinking this over brought his mother to mind. He shed many tears and resolved to do whatever he could to see his old mother again. Day broke. He tore down the door of his cell and went to see the lama. He was asleep when he arrived.

The lama awoke. At that moment, with the sun rising over the house, rays of light shone through a window by his pillow and fell upon his head. At the same time the lama’s wife entered bringing his meal. The lama said, “Son, why have you suddenly broken your strict retreat and come here? You run the risk of encountering demons and obstacles. Go back right away and stay in retreat!”

Milarepa described his dream and requested that he be allowed to visit his home and aged mother for a short while. The lama replied, “If you wish to go, I shall grant you permission. But if you are counting on returning later, your coming here to make this request and finding me asleep is an omen that we, father and son, shall not meet again in this life. However, the sun rising over the house is an omen that you shall illuminate the Buddha’s teachings like the sun. In particular, the sunlight shining upon my head is an omen that the teachings of the Practice Lineage shall flourish and spread. Dakmema bringing food offerings is an omen that you shall be sustained with the food of concentration. Now there is nothing for me to do but to let you go. Dakmema, prepare a fine offering.”

The lama set up a mandala and the lady laid out the offerings. Then the lama bestowed in full the ripening path symbolic initiations of the ḍākinī aural transmission and the liberating path oral instructions—a transmission handed down through a line of single individuals and not known to others. The lama said, “Very well now. Lord Nāropa gave me the prophetic command that I should bestow upon you these oral instructions. Thus I have done so. You too must transmit them to a single disciple, who will be prophesied by the ḍākinīs, with the seal that it be handed down through a line of single individuals for thirteen generations.

Furthermore, should you give away these instructions for food, wealth, or enjoyments of this life, you will incur the punishment of the ḍākinīs. Therefore, practice while strictly adhering to these commands. When a fortunate disciple appears, even if he lacks material offerings, accept him by imparting the oral instructions and in doing so spread the teachings.

Then he placed his hands on Milarepa's head and said, “Son, your departure breaks my heart. All composite things are similarly marked by impermanence and there is nothing to do about it. Nevertheless, stay for a few days. Reflect on the oral instructions and resolve your doubts.” And so in accordance with the lama’s command, Milarepa stayed a few days and resolved his misinterpretations of the oral instructions. Then the lama said, “Dakmema, prepare a ritual feast and fine offerings. Mila is now ready to depart so I will bid him farewell.”

The lady prepared fine offerings for the lama and chosen deities, ritual cakes for the ḍākinīs and dharma protectors, and a ritual feast for the vajra brothers. Seated at the head of the assembly row, the lama revealed his body in numerous forms: the bodies of chosen deities such as Hevajra, Cakrasamvara, and Guhyasamāja; hand implements such as a vajra and bell, a wheel, a jewel, a lotus, and a sword; seed syllables such as the letters oṃ, āḥ, and hūṃ in white, red, and blue; and visible and invisible spheres of light. “These,” he said, “are called miraculous transformations of the body. Revealing them casually serves little purpose. I have displayed them now on the occasion of Milarepa’s departure.

If you are able to practice, that itself will serve the lama, repay your parents’ kindness, and accomplish the aims of sentient beings. If you are unable to practice, you will have nothing but a long life filled with increasingly evil deeds. Therefore, reject completely the desires of this life and do not speak to those who seek out the aims of this life. In this way you should earnestly devote yourself to practice. Son, after today father and son will not meet again in this life. I will not forget you. You must not forget me. In that way, we shall without a doubt meet again in the pure celestial realms, so rejoice. At some point an obstacle will arise in your practice with the channels and subtle winds. When that happens, look at this, but not before then.” The lama then handed me a scroll, rolled up and affixed with a seal.”

When Milarepa first arrived in the upper end of the valley, at a spot where he could see his house, there were many herdsmen. On enquiring from them, one of them said, "The corpse of the only son’s mother lies in the house down there, and her ghost still haunts the place. There is a sister who left her mother’s corpse and became a beggar, no one knows where. The son himself may now be dead; there’s been no news about him at all. It is said that some dharma texts remain in the house down there. Yogin, if you dare go, you should have a look.”

Filled with sorrow, Milarepa sat weeping in a hidden spot until the sun went down. Stepping inside the house, he saw the texts of the precious Ratnakūṭa Sutra damaged by leaking water and falling debris. Then he walked across the doorstep and found a heap of rags caked with dirt over which many weeds had grown. When he gathered them up, a number of human bones, bleached white, slipped out. When he realized they were the bones of his mother, he was so overcome with grief that he could hardly stand it. He could not think, he could not speak, and an overwhelming sense of longing and sadness swept over him. But at that moment he remembered his lama’s oral instructions. He then blended his mother’s consciousness with his mind and the wisdom mind of the Kagyu lamas. He made a cushion of his mother’s bones and rested in a state of luminosity without letting his three gates waver for even an instant. He saw the true possibility of liberating both his mother and his father from the suffering of life’s round.

Milarepa's former tutor's son gave Milarepa a sack filled with barley flour and some excellent dried meat, butter, and cheese. He then withdrew to a good cave on a ridge behind his house and stayed there in meditation. As he was sparing with his provisions and water, his body weakened but his practice improved and he was able to remain there for several months. Then, when his provisions ran out and he had nothing to eat, he felt he could not last any longer. He thought, “I should beg for meat, butter, and cheese from highland nomads and barley flour from lowland farmers. With continued sustenance I could go on practicing.”

Milarepa went to beg from the nomads. At the entrance to a tent he called out, “Some alms of meat, butter, and cheese for a yogin, I beg.” He had happened upon the tent of his aunt. She recognized him and, in her displeasure, immediately set loose her dog. Milarepa defended himself with stones and a staff. Then his aunt seized a tent pole and beat him repeatedly, shouting, “Disgrace to your noble father! Dishonor to your family! Demon who devastated your homeland! Why have you come? A son like you born to such a fine father!”

Milarepa turned to flee but, malnourished and weak, he stumbled on a rock and fell into a pool of water. He nearly died while his aunt continued to rage. Milarepa got up as best he could and, leaning on his staff, sang a song reminding his aunt that it was she and his uncle who were responsible for their suffering. The song ended with:

O aunt, without letting your anger run wild,
Give me provisions to use in retreat.
Sovereign of love and compassion, Lord Marpa,
Bless your subject to assuage his anger.

Milarepa sang this song in a voice choked with tears. A girl who was standing behind my aunt broke into long sobs and even the aunt felt ashamed. They both went inside and the girl returned carrying a ball of butter and a halfbrick of compacted sweet cake that had spoiled. His uncle refused to give him anything, but the other countrymen each handed out liberal alms, which he carried off.

As he had lingered a few days, Dzesé learned of his presence and came to see him carrying some excellent food and beer. She embraced him and then sat there sobbing. She explained how his mother had died and his sister had gone wandering, which filled him with great sadness. Milarepa thought, “Through the kindness of Marpa the Translator I did not get mired in married life. He said, “If you see my sister, give the fields to her. In the meantime, use the fields yourself. If you find out for sure that my sister is dead, you may take both house and fields.” “You don’t need them for yourself?” she asked. “I practice austerities and seek food as do birds and mice, so I have no need for fields. I dwell in caves in uninhabited places, so I have no need for a house. Even if I were a master of the entire world, I would still need to leave them aside at the time of death. So if I renounce these things now, I shall find happiness in this and all future lives.“

The aunt learned that he had no interest in either the house or the fields. Several days passed and she thought, “Since he says he is following the instructions of his lama, I shall see if I can acquire the fields for myself.” She visited Milarepa carrying beer, meat, butter, and other foods and said, “The other day I behaved foolishly, but you, my nephew, are a dharma practitioner, so you should forgive me. Now your aunt will sow your fields and bring you provisions.”

“Very well,” replied Milarepa, “in that case, my aunt, sow the fields and bring one load of barley flour each month. Keep the rest for yourself.”

“I will do that,” she said. For some two months, she brought barley flour as agreed. Then one day my aunt appeared and said, “People say that if I plow the fields, my nephew will cast magic with his dharma protectors. But you won’t really cast magic, will you?”

“Why would I cast magic? Since it will be virtuous work, sow the fields and bring me provisions.”

“Well then, if it makes no difference to you, it would ease my mind if you’d swear an oath.”

He swore an oath. This pleased her and she returned home.

He then persevered in meditation but was unable to achieve the slightest quality of bliss-warmth. One night, while he was wondering what to do next, he had the following dream: "I was plowing an uncultivated field but the earth was hard and I could not furrow through it. I wondered if I should give up. Just then Jetsün Marpa appeared in the sky and said, “Son, plow with diligence and perseverance. Though the earth is hard and uncultivated, you shall furrow through it.” Thus Marpa guided me and I plowed the field, creating deep furrows. Excellent crops then sprang up." He awoke filled with joy. He took this as a sign that good qualities would emerge if he persevered in meditation.

Milarepa sustained himself on a thin gruel made from whatever scant barley flour he had. In this way he attained some confidence about the Great Seal in his mind, but his physical strength weakened and, unable to control the subtle winds, he did not experience bliss-warmth in his body. He thus became intensely cold. He prayed to the lama one-pointedly, and one night he experienced a state of luminosity. While in that state he perceived that a host of women appeared saying lama Marpa had sent them. They performed an excellent ritual feast and said, “If Milarepa has not given rise to bliss-warmth, Marpa instructs that he exert his three gates in the following way,” and they demonstrated a series of yogic exercises. Accordingly, he sought physical well-being through the key point of an erect, squatting posture, “binding of the six hearths.” He sought verbal control through the key point of controlling the life force winds, “binding of a plaited knot.” He sought mental relaxation through the key point of self-liberation, “binding of a coiled snake.” Meditating in this way, a most wonderful bliss-warmth spread through him

Milarepa meditated day and night and his spiritual practice thus increased. Three years passed in this way. He had a plan to eat one load of barley flour each year. But once that was used up, he knew his life would be in danger if he had nothing else to survive on. He thought, “A body used to achieve buddhahood is more valuable than even the whole third-order thousand-fold universe filled with gold. It is better to die while continuing to practice than to break my earlier vow. What should I do now?” He decided he would not go down to the village, but that he should search for some food to sustain his practice of austerities. Since it would be for the sake of dharma, this would not break his vows.

Stepping out in front of Drakar, he found a delightful spot with a commanding view where there was warm sun, excellent water, and many nettles growing. He moved over to it and stayed there living on nothing but nettles as he practiced. He had no clothes on his outside and nothing nutritious to sustain him inside. His body thus became like a skeleton and turned the color of nettles, covered with soft green hair. He was tempted to break the seal on the scroll and read it but he received a sign that it was not yet the proper time so he set it aside.

After a year or so had passed, Milarepa's clothes were all worn out. He thought about sewing together the ragged blanket, now in tatters, his aunt had given him. But then he thought, “Were I to die tonight, sewing this would be pointless. It would be better to meditate,” so I gave up the idea.

Instead, he spread the blanket over the cushion and used it to wrap the lower part of his body. He dressed his upper body with each of the empty flour sacks. In this way, he used these materials to cover the parts of his body that needed it most.

In this way Milarepa passed another year or so meditating. One day there arose a clamor of many voices. Looking out, he saw that several hunters, carrying a good deal of meat, had appeared at the entrance of his cave. Upon seeing Milarepa, those in front cried, “It’s a ghost!” and fled. Those farther back said, “You needn’t worry about ghosts appearing in the daylight. Take a good look. Is it still there?”

“It’s still there,” called the others. Some old hunters came forward from the rear and they too became frightened. Milarepa told them his story in detail, explaining that he was not a ghost but rather was a hermit practicing meditation in the mountains, and that his body had become like this due to lack of sustenance. “We shall see if it’s true or not,” they said. Entering the cave, they found nothing at all but nettles. They were filled with faith and offered him a good quantity of meat and a portion of their barley flour. “This sort of activity is truly amazing,” they said. “Please guide the animals we have killed to a higher rebirth and purify the sinful deeds we have committed.” Then they paid their respects and left.

Filled with joy Milarepa thought, “Now I have food to eat like a human.” He ate some of the cooked meat and his body became comfortable, his constitution clear, and his awareness heightened. Thus his spiritual practice was strengthened and a profound experience of bliss-emptiness arose as never before. He ate the meat sparingly until finally it was full of maggots. He considered picking away the maggots and then eating it but then thought, “I have neither the merit nor the right to do so. I shall not steal the maggots’ share of food.” He let them eat the meat and returned to his ascetic diet of nettles.

Each year in Kyangatsa a great festival was held for casting figurines. On this occasion the hunters, in a single voice, sang the Song of the Five Happinesses. Milarepa's sister Peta was begging at the festival and heard them. “Whoever spoke those words is a buddha,” she cried. One of the hunters said, “Ha-ha, she is praising her own brother.” Another added, “Whether he is a buddha or an ordinary man, this is the song of your brother who is starving to death.” Peta replied, “My brother has wandered to the ends of the earth, and I am a beggar who will never see him again. I have no reason to be cheerful.”

She began to weep and Dzesé came up to her saying, “Don’t cry! It probably is your brother. I met him some time ago. Go to Drakar Taso and see if he’s there. If he is, then we shall both go to meet him.”

Peta went to Drakar Taso carrying a vessel of beer she had begged and a small container of barley porridge. Then she peered in from the cave entrance. Milarepa's body was wasted by ascetic practices. His eyes were sunken into their sockets. All his bones stuck out. He was emaciated with a green complexion. Fine bristling greenish hair grew on the skin hanging from his flesh and bones. The hair on his head grew in shocks and frightful disarray. His limbs were about to break. When Milarepa's sister saw this she was terrified, thinking he was a ghost at first. But the words she had heard, that her brother was starving to death, made her hesitate.

“Are you a man or a ghost?” she asked. “I am Mila Töpaga,” replied Milarepa. Recognizing his voice, she came in and embraced him, crying, “Brother, brother.” In such a state, she fainted and lay unconscious for a while. He too recognized that she was Peta and felt both happy and sad. After a moment she regained consciousness. She placed her head between his knees, covering her face with her hands. Choking with tears she said, “Our mother died in misery while longing to see you brother. No one around us came to help, and unable to bear such intense grief in our house, I went to beg in other regions. I wondered if you were dead, my brother, or if you were not dead if you had found a measure of happiness greater than this. But such is my brother’s fate, and this is what I, your sister, have become. No one on earth is more miserable than us, brother and sister.” Then she called out the names of their parents and sat there sobbing.

Milarepa ate and drank the food and beer Peta gave him. Immediately his mind became crystal clear and that night his spiritual practice improved. After Peta departed the next day, he felt both physical ease and discomfort, and various kinds of virtuous and non-virtuous thoughts arose in his mind, such as he had never experienced before. When this happened, he persevered in his meditation, but to no avail.

Several days later, Dzesé came to see him, together with Peta, carrying meat, pungent butter, barley flour, and a good amount of excellent beer. Milarepa had gone to fetch water when he met them. When they saw him without clothes and completely naked, they both blushed and could not help crying. They offered him the meat, butter, and barley flour, and poured the beer. While he was drinking, Peta said, “However you look at my brother now, he cannot be called a man. You should beg for alms and eat at least some scrap of food fit for humans. I will give you whatever I can collect to make clothes.”

“Do whatever you can to go begging for food. I will also come to give you something to wear,” added Dzesé.

Milarepa replied, “I do not know when I will die, and I have neither time nor reason to beg for food. Even if I were to die from the cold, I would have little reason for regret since it would be for the dharma."

When he ate the good food, his physical ease and discomfort and the various thoughts in his mind increased. He found himself unable to meditate. He thought that there was no greater obstacle than his inability to meditate. So he broke the seal to the scroll that the lama had given him and read its contents. Inside, it contained the heart-advice for transforming faults into positive qualities, quintessential points that remove obstacles and enhance one’s practice. And it specifically advised that I should take good food at this time.

Milarepa came to understand that through his previous efforts in meditation, the subtle constituents were beginning to gather within the channels, but due to his poor diet they could not ascend. Peta’s beer allowed them to ascend a little bit and Dzesé’s offerings allowed them to ascend completely. He worked hard to apply the key points regarding physical posture and subtle winds, as well as the visualizations contained in the scroll. As a result, the knots of the secondary channels were loosened, as was the knot in the lower part of the central channel at the level of the navel.

Previously, Milarepa had understood the experience of bliss, clarity, and nonconceptuality through mere words. But now he developed the extraordinary qualities of experience and realization that were extremely potent and stable and so not like that at all. Freed from impediments, he recognized faults as good qualities. Thus in general he understood all phenomena of life’s round and transcendence to be interdependent. He further ascertained that the underlying basis of mind is free from biases. Life’s round is the result of the path conditioned by wrong views. Transcendence is the result of the path conditioned by insight. The essence of both is emptiness and luminosity.

Thereafter he meditated with great perseverance. During the day, Milarepa had the experience that allowed him to display all sorts of miracles, such as transforming his body into any desired form and levitating in space. At night in his dreams he could freely illuminate and wander through the entire universe from top to bottom. He could manifest many hundreds of mental and physical forms, with each one visiting a buddha realm and listening to the dharma as well as teaching dharma to countless sentient beings. He could perform unimaginable miracles, transforming his body into blazing fire, gushing water, and the like. Feeling joyful and encouraged by this, he continued to meditate and gained the ability to actually fly through the sky.

Days passed. Milarepa thought, “I have stayed in this place a long time, people have seen me flying, a feat I gained through my experience and realization. Now I fear that if I stay here, my practice will face obstacles caused by people asking me to avert their worldly misfortunes and obtain things they want. I should go to meditate at Chubar, which was prophesied by the lama.”

Placing on his back the clay pot in which he cooked nettles, he set out from Drakar Taso. He slipped on a stone at the entrance of his cave and fell. The handle of the pot fell off and the vessel rolled down the mountainside. He ran to catch it but the pot cracked. This demonstrated that all composite things are impermanent and, reflecting on it, he understood it as an exhortation to practice.

At that time Peta went to Drakar Taso, bringing with her some woolen cloth woven from wool and hair she had collected. In Upper Gungtang she heard that a yogin, resembling a nettle worm, had left Palku going in the direction of Latö Lho. She left to come after Milarepa. In Dingri, she saw lama Bari Lotsawa seated on a throne, sheltered by parasols, and wearing fine silken robes. Disciples blew conch shells and a great crowd of people gathered around him, offering tea and beer, and many other kinds of gifts. Peta thought, “These sorts of things are suitable for other religious practitioners. But my brother’s dharma is nothing but misery, scorned by others, bringing only shame to his family. If I meet my brother, I must convince him to become this lama’s servant.” She reached Drin and, after looking around, found him at Kyipuk. She said, “My brother’s dharma allows for nothing to eat or even clothes to wear. This makes me ashamed and embarrassed, and it’s not right. Make a skirt from this woolen cloth.

“There is a lama named Bari Lotsawa who practices a different kind of dharma. He has a throne that supports him from below and parasols shelter him from above. In between he is draped in fine silks and plied with tea and beer. His disciples blow conch shells and crowds gather to offer gifts beyond imagination. Thus he benefits his followers and kinsmen. It is no exaggeration that he is a very fine dharma practitioner. See if he might accept you as his servant. Even if you become the lowest among his disciples, you would be happy. Otherwise, my brother’s dharma and my poverty will not be able to sustain us

She sat there weeping, and he replied, “Peta, don’t say that. You are embarrassed at my nakedness and my unconventional behavior, but I am satisfied with what I have here. Since it allowed me to encounter the dharma, I am not ashamed of it. You think that I forego food and clothing in my meditation due to a lack of material support, but that is not so. Generally speaking, I fear the suffering in the lower realms of life’s round. I am as terrified as if I were being cast alive into flames. When I see people picking and choosing frivolity, distraction, and the eight worldly concerns, I feel revulsion like a vomiting sick man who is given food.”

“Moreover, Lhodrak Marpa gave me this prophetic command: ‘Abandon the frivolous distractions of the eight worldly concerns. Renounce food, clothing, and conversation. Wander in isolated places. And above all else, practice with a fierce intention to renounce this life.’ So now I am following the commands of my lama. By doing so, I will not only bring about happiness in this life for those few people who have come into contact with me, I will also bring about everlasting happiness for all sentient beings, both myself and all others.” Milarepa explained as much as he could about the dharma instructions on the law of cause and effect of actions. She gained conviction in the dharma and began to lose her short temper.

At about this time the evil uncle died, after which the aunt began to feel sincere remorse. Leading a crossbred yak loaded with provisions, she came looking for Milarepa all the way up to Drin. When she reached Drin, she left the crossbred and most of the provisions there and then proceeded carrying as much as she could manage. Peta, who was standing on a hilltop, saw her and recognized that she was our aunt. She exclaimed, “Our aunt has caused us and our mother so much suffering, so you shouldn’t meet with her.” Then she drew back the wooden bridge that led to the cave. Our aunt appeared at the edge of the bridge and said, “Niece, do not draw back the bridge. Your aunt is here.”

“That’s exactly why I have drawn it back,” replied Peta.

“You are right, my niece. But I am now filled with overwhelming remorse. I have come to see you, brother and sister, so put back the bridge. If you won’t do that, at least tell your brother that I have arrived.” The aunt prostrated and explained in detail her reasons for wanting to meet. Milarepa thought, “I would not be behaving like a good dharma practitioner if I did not eventually meet with her. But first I must make her own up to her crimes.”

Milarepa said, “In general, I have given up on relatives, but especially my uncle and aunt. First, you inflicted misery on us. And you tormented me again when I came begging, even after I had begun practicing dharma. That is why I am finished with my uncle and aunt.

The aunt shed many tears and repeatedly prostrated herself. She said, “My nephew has been right all along. I beg your forgiveness and sincerely confess my crimes. I feel terrible regret, now and into the future. It’s because I have not lost all feelings for my family that I have come to see my nephew. I must see you, brother and sister, by all means. If you don’t grant my wish to see you, I will kill myself.”

Milarepa could bear it no longer and he put back the bridge and met with her, just as she wished. He taught her the law of cause and effect. Her mind turned toward the dharma and later she practiced by meditating on the oral instructions. In this way, it is said, she became a self-liberated yoginī.

Milarepa's disciples

Among the disciples foretold to the Jetsün by his chosen deities and the ḍākinīs, and in accord with a dream he had at the time he met Zhiwa Ö, there were first the eight heart-sons: the incomparable Dakpo Rinpoché who was like the sun, Rechung Dorjé Drakpa of Gungtang who was like the moon, and Ngandzong Tönpa Changchup Gyaltsen of Chimlung, Repa Zhiwa Ö of Gyaltrom Mé, Seban Repa of Dotra, Khyira Repa of Nyishang, Drigom Repa of Mü, and Repa Sangyé Kyap of Ragma, who were like constellations.

There were also innumerable non-human disciples, such as the Tsering Chenga sisters and the demon of Lingwa Drak, who were protectors of the virtuous. He also taught the dharma to Ganapati, the great Hindu God.

Milarepa's Passing Away

At that time, there lived in Drin Dingma a wealthy and arrogant teacher named Geshé Tsakpuwa. He always sat at the head of the row when villagers from Drin held ritual assemblies. He pretended to show respect to Milarepa but, overcome with jealousy, he decided to humiliate the master before his assembled patrons. To do this, he pretended to be troubled by doubts and asked many questions.

Once, Milarepa was invited to sit at the head of the assembly row during a large wedding celebration in Drin. Geshé Tsakpuwa was also there, but was seated farther down the line. He prostrated to the Jetsün, hoping that the prostrations would be returned in front of the assembled crowd. The Jetsün had never bowed to anyone except his own lama, nor had he ever returned anyone’s prostration. Following this custom, he did not return the Geshé’s prostrations.

The Geshé thought, “A fine scholar as qualified and learned as myself bowing before a know-nothing fool such as him, and not receiving prostrations in return! I will humiliate him!”

He took out a treatise on logic and said, “Milarepa, in order to clear up the doubts I have about this text, please give a discourse providing both a close reading of the text and an interpretation of its supplementary points.” Milarepa replied, “You know very well how to give close readings of the words found in treatises. But a close reading of the underlying meaning requires eradicating clinging to the sense of self of individuals by developing equanimity and renouncing the eight worldly concerns, and then eradicating clinging to the sense of self of phenomena by recognizing the equal taste of life’s round and transcendence.

The patrons found this unacceptable and in agreement they said, “Master Geshé, however learned you may be in the dharma, the world is filled with religious people like you. You are not equal to even a single pore on the Jetsün’s body. So take a seat at the head of our assembly and quiet down. Do what you can to increase your wealth. You do not have even the smell of dharma.”

Despite his growing anger, the Geshé was unable to protest since they were all in agreement. His face turned dark and he thought, “Milarepa, who acts like a know-nothing madman with his nonsense, his lies, and deceit, is a disgrace to the teachings. He confuses people and then lives off their charity. But although I have such extensive learning and am the wealthiest and most influential man in the region, in religious matters I am not even respected as much as a dog. I must do something about this.”

The Geshé had a lover. He gave her a large turquoise and then sent her to deliver some poisoned curds to the Jetsün, who was at the time staying at Drakar in Drin. The Jetsün knew that he had established his fortunate disciples, those with whom he had karmic connections, on the path of ripening and liberation, and that even without the woman’s poisoned food the time for him to die had arrived. He also knew that if she did not acquire the turquoise before he took the poison, she would never obtain it. So he said to her, “I shall not eat your food offering just yet. Bring it back later and then I shall eat it.”

The woman wondered if the Jetsün suspected her so she returned, frightened and filled with shame. To Geshé Tsakpuwa she said, “With his clairvoyance, the Jetsün knew about our plan and would not take the poisoned food.”

When she reported what had happened, the Geshé replied, “If he was really clairvoyant, he would not have told you to bring it back later. He would have given it to you and forced you to eat it. Now, take this turquoise and be certain that he eats the poison.” “I don’t need the turquoise. I am too afraid and will not do it. I won’t go.” “Laymen believe he is clairvoyant,” the Geshé replied, “because they have not read the scriptures and have been fooled by his deceptions. In my scriptures it is taught that clairvoyant men are not like him. I am certain he is not clairvoyant. Now, give him the food, and once I have seen proof we shall be married.”

Hoping these promises were real and that they would be fulfilled, she mixed the poison with some curds and brought them to the Jetsün while he was staying at Drodé Tashigang. The Jetsün smiled and then took them in his hands. “Geshé Tsakpuwa was right, he does not seem to be clairvoyant,” thought the woman. At that moment, the Jetsün said, “Did you receive the turquoise as a gift for the deed you are performing?”

Terrified and ashamed, the woman prostrated herself and in a trembling voice choked with tears said, “I did receive the turquoise. But please do not eat this. Give it back to me, who was intending to do you harm.”

“What will you do with it?”

“I will eat it myself since I am such a wicked person.”

The Jetsün said, “First of all, my compassion is such that I could not bear to hand it over for you to eat. It would violate my training in the aspiration to enlightenment and would constitute a root infraction of my vows. More importantly, my opportunity to train disciples and my life span have both come to an end. It is now time to depart for another realm. Your food will not harm me so it does not matter whether I eat it or not. Had I eaten it the first time, you would not have received the turquoise as payment for your crime. That is why I did not take it. Now that the turquoise is in your hands, I will eat it in order to fulfill the Geshé’s intentions and to ensure that you can keep the turquoise.

Although you have neither seen with your own eyes nor heard with your own ears the truth of my previous teachings, the time will come when you will believe them to be true. So keep them in mind and see if they are true.” Having said this, he ate the poison.

After some time, Milarepa announced, “Those faithful patrons who have a connection with me, headed by the people of Nyanam and Dingri, come see me and bring supplies for a ritual feast. Those from the surrounding area who have not met me but wish to do so should also come.” Faithful male and female disciples who had a previous dharma connection, and many fortunate individuals who desired to meet him, gathered at Chubar. For many days, the Jetsün gave instructions of provisional meaning on the law of cause and effect as well as instructions of definitive meaning introducing the quintessential truth.

During this time, some fortunate disciples seated in the audience clearly saw the sky filled with gods listening to the dharma. Others perceived that the earth and sky were entirely filled with gods and humans listening to the dharma and were thus filled with joy. Everyone plainly saw the pristine sky filled with extraordinary signs: a canopy of rainbow light, parasols and victory banners made of five-colored clouds, and innumerable other offerings. A rain of five-colored flowers descended. They heard sweet sounds of beautiful music and smelled delightful scents such as they had never experienced before.

Among the gods and humans assembled there listening to the dharma, those of greatest ability ascertained the unmistaken truth that the mind is the reality body. Those of intermediate ability developed an extraordinary nonconceptual experience of bliss-clarity and entered the path. Even among those of least ability, not one failed to generate the intention to attain supreme enlightenment.

A few days later, the great Jetsün showed signs of illness. At that time Ngandzong Repa said, “For the Jetsün’s illness, we disciples will present a ritual feast of offering cakes to the lamas, chosen deities, ḍākinīs, and dharma protectors. We will also perform a longevity ceremony and medical treatments.” He then called the patrons and began making preparations for the rituals.

But the Jetsün said, “For a yogin, illness is basically nothing more than an inspiration to spiritual practice. He must adopt whatever happens as part of the path, without performing rituals, facing even illness or death. In my case I, Milarepa, have already performed all the rituals in the tradition of my kind lama Marpa. I have transformed adverse circumstances into heartfelt companions without the need for intervening forces, so I don’t need rituals for my circumstances.

When the Jetsün began to show signs of increasing illness, Geshé Tsakpuwa made a show of bringing him offerings of meat and beer, and pretended to inquire about his health. The Geshé said, “It is a pity that an accomplished master such as the Jetsün was afflicted by this kind of illness. If there was a way to share it, you could divide it among your disciples. If there was a way to transfer it, you could give it to a person like me. But there is no way to do that. What should be done now?”

The Jetsün smiled and said, “It should be clear to you that, while there was no reason for this illness to afflict me, I could not avoid it. Generally speaking, illness for an ordinary person is not like illness for a dharma practitioner, who should treasure it as an opportunity to practice. And in my case, I wear my illness as an ornament.”

The Geshé thought, “I am sure he cannot transfer his illness.” Then he said, “If only I knew the reason for the Jetsün’s illness. If it were a benign or malicious demon I would exorcise it. If it were a disorder of the elements in your body, I would remedy them. But I do not know the cause. If you are able to transfer your illness, please give it to me.”

The Jetsün replied, “A certain being has become possessed by the greatest demon of all, self-clinging. It is this demon that has caused the illness disturbing the elements in my body. You could neither exorcise nor remedy it. If I shifted my illness to you, you could not endure it for even a moment, so I shall not transfer it.”

The Geshé thought, “He cannot transfer his illness and is trying to deceive me.”

“Transfer it anyway,” he urged.

“In that case, I will not transfer it to you but to the door over there. Watch.” When Milarepa transferred it to the door of his retreat cell there was a loud crash as it shuddered and splintered. And at that moment, the Jetsün rested without illness.

The Geshé wondered if it was a magic trick and said, “How amazing. Now transfer it to me.”

“Very well, I will give the Geshé a taste,” replied Milarepa, and he withdrew the illness from the door and transferred it to Tsakpuwa, who collapsed in pain. Paralyzed and gasping for air, he lay there barely conscious and on the verge of death. The Jetsün then took back most of the illness and said, “I transferred only half of my illness. Can you not even withstand that?”

Having experienced such pain, the Geshé was filled with an intense, unbearable feeling of regret. He placed the Jetsün’s feet on his head and as he wept tears of heartfelt emotion he cried, “Precious Jetsün, genuine master, just as you said, it was I—cast under a spell—who caused the illness. I offer all of my inner and outer possessions together with my house to the Jetsün. Please think of me, Jetsün, so that I might not suffer the consequences of this terrible deed.”

The Jetsün was extremely pleased by this sincere confession and he took back the remainder of the illness. Then he said, “Throughout my life I have had no need for house or wealth. And now on the verge of death, I still have no need for them, so take back your offerings. From here on, do not do anything that contradicts the dharma, even at the cost of your own life. Now I shall recite a prayer so that you will not suffer the consequences of your actions.”

The repas asked, “Is it permissible to undertake some minor activities in the world if they benefit others?”

The Jetsün replied, “It is permissible if there is not the slightest inclination for one’s own desires, but that is difficult. Those who hanker after the things of this life are unable to benefit even themselves, much less others. That would be like a man drowning in a swift current saying he would save another drowning man. The time will come for you to benefit beings. Until then, aspire to attain buddhahood in order to benefit all sentient beings, holding others more dearly than oneself. Be humble in conduct. Wear ragged clothes. Renounce all thoughts of food, clothing, or conversation. Practice while enduring physical hardship and mental adversity. This itself will benefit sentient beings. In order to set yourself upon the path to practice, keep all of this in mind.”

At that time, signs that the gods and ḍākinīs had gathered were even more widespread and wondrous than before. Everyone looking into the clear sky perceived what seemed to be a checkered pattern drawn with rainbow lights. In the center of each square was a multicolored eightpetaled lotus flower in which the petals of the four cardinal directions were the four principal colors. Upon each lotus flower stood a mandala even more beautiful and marvelous than those designed or painted by skilled artisans. In the space around them appeared a limitless expanse of offerings, five-colored rainbows and clouds taking the form of umbrellas and victory banners, curtains and canopies, ribbons and tassels, streamers and banners, and the like. A great shower of flowers in all shapes and colors fell. Stupas formed from five-colored clouds adorned the mountain peaks and each of their pinnacles bowed in the direction of Chubar. Melodious songs of praise set to pleasing music and the fragrant scent of finest incense permeated the air. Everyone spread out across the ground witnessed such things. Many people saw gods and ḍākinīs bearing numerous welcome gifts and then offering them. Humans did not look upon the naked bodies of the gods as improper, and the gods were not affected by the unpleasant odor of the humans. Humans and divine beings conversed among themselves and entertained each other. These marvelous signs continued until the funerary rites were completed.

Books about Milarepa

• Milarepa : Lessons from the Life and Songs of Tibet’s Great Yogi
• The Hundred Thousand Songs of Milarepa: A New Translation
• The Life of Milarepa

Songs of Milarepa

• Song of Mahamudra
• All These Forms
• Song on Renunciation
• The Eight Reminders
• Song on Sickness, Old Age and Death
• Song on Impermanence