Tonglen: The Practice of Giving and Taking
by Acharya Judith Simmer-Brown, in Commit to Sit: Tools for Cultivating a Meditation Practice, from Tricycle. Edited by Joan Duncan Oliver (Hay House, 2009).
Tonglen, literally “giving and taking”, is a Tibetan practice for cultivating compassion, the Mahayana path of the bodhisattva. The great master Atisha brought Tibetans this practice from India in the 11th century. Tonglen reverses the pattern of self-cherishing that is the knot of our personal suffering. Using breathing as the basis, tonglen opens our hearts to those things we would rather avoid and encourages us to share what we would rather keep for ourselves. The practice shows that there are no real boundaries between living beings—we are all interdependent.
We begin tonglen by taking our seats in meditation with good posture, very simply and naturally. We ask, why would we want to do this practice? Fundamentally it is vast and choiceless. We recognize that the purpose of our human life is huge, to grow larger hearts and open minds, and we celebrate that we can do this in this moment. We are ready for transformation. Glimpsing this motivation begins the practice.
Then we become aware of our breathing, in and out, and establish the flow of the practice. On the in-breath, we breathe in thinking, “heavy, thick, hot,” and on the out-breath, we breathe out thinking, “light, bright, cool.” At first it seems only like words, but it is good to develop a literal sense of this. My teacher, the Vidyadhara Trungpa Rinpoche, suggested that we think of ourselves as air-conditioners. We breathe in the stale, smoky, fetid air of the room around us, and we breathe out fresh, clean, cool air. We gradually purify the room. When we breathe, we are breathing with every pore of our bodies, in with “heavy, thick, hot,” and out with “light, bright, cool.” Do this for roughly one-third of the 20-minute session, or until the texture is established.
Next, we breathe with a continuing sense of the texture we have established. But now we open our thoughts and emotions to all of our personal material. It is good to start with those who spontaneously arouse our compassion. Who do we know who is sick or in emotional turmoil? We begin with that person’s face before us, and breathe in their heavy, thick and hot suffering, sharing with them our own light, bright and cool energy. Be quite tangible with the texture. Whatever suffering you see in them, breathe it in; whatever sanity and kindness you see in yourself, you breathe it out to them. When we are ready, extend beyond our loved ones to more difficult people. Who do we see as threatening, or as problematic in our lives? We allow their faces to come to us, and then breathe in their suffering and extend out to them our sanity and kindness. We are practicing embracing what we would normally avoid, and sharing what we would normally hoard. Do this part of the practice for seven to ten minutes.
We conclude the practice by extending it out beyond our familiar world. One way to do this is to move geographically. We begin in our immediate neighborhood, with the family next door with the two babies, the college student on the other side who takes terrible care of her lawn, to the elderly woman across the street who recently lost her husband. We move to those people we encounter on our daily routines—our coworkers and our boss; the grocery checker and stock boy; the employees at the cleaners, the gas station, the video store. Then we extend through our community, to the hospital, the shelter, the jail, the nursing home, including everyone suffering there. And we extend to our state, region, country and world, our minds going to the painful situations there described in the newspaper—the wars, famines, epidemics. We also include the CEO’s, the political leaders, and the people of privilege. We extend this practice until the twenty-minute session is over. Then we conclude with a simple session of meditation again.