The Way to Consider Behavioral Cause and Effect

There are two main presentations of karma given by the Nalanda masters of India: one followed by the Vaibhashika, Sautrantika-Svatantrika and Prasangika Madhyamaka tenet systems and one followed by the Sautrantika, Chittamatra and Yogachara-Svatantrika Madhyamaka tenet systems. The lam-rim tradition, without stating what karma is, presents the details of karma according to which of the two systems has the fullest presentation, which mostly is the Chittamatra one. In that system, all karmic impulses are asserted to be the mental factor of an urging [as cited by Asanga in “An Anthology of Special Topics of Knowledge,” 256-4-7 ff.]

Both systems assert that karmic impulses may be constructive (dge-ba, Skt. kuśala, virtuous), destructive (mi-dge-ba, Skt. akuśala, nonvirtuous) or of the type that the Buddha has left unspecified to be either of the two (lung ma-bstan, Skt. avyākṛta) and that include both those that obstruct liberation and those that are unobstructive.

In any of these three categories, there are urging karmic impulses (sems-pa’i las) and urged karmic impulses (bsam-pa’i las). Those that are urging karmic impulses are impulses of the mind (yid-kyi las, mental karma). They are the mental factor of an urging (sems-pa, Skt. cetanā) that prods the mind consciousness and accompanying mental factors to perform their functions of thinking over and deciding to commit a karmic action of the body or speech. Those that are urged by those urging karmic impulses of the mind are either karmic impulses of the body (lus-kyi las, physical karma) or karmic impulses of the speech (ngag-gi las, verbal karma). 

According to the Vaibhashika, Sautrantika-Svatantrika and Prasangika Madhyamaka systems [as cited by Tsongkhapa in “A Grand Commentary on (Nagarjuna’s) ‘Root (Verses on the Middle Way, Called) Discriminating Awareness’” (rTsa-she tik-chen rigs-pa’i rgya-mtsho) (Sarnath ed.) 299–300; and by Vasubandhu in “A Treasure House of Special Topics of Knowledge,” IV.1–8.] the karmic impulses of the body and speech are the movements of the body or utterances of the sounds of the syllables of words that are the methods implemented to cause the actions decided upon by the urging karmic action of the mind to take place. Thus, not all urgings and not all movements of the body or utterances of the sounds of the syllables of words are karmic. The urgings that drive the body consciousness, for instance, or the mind consciousness to think about having lunch are not karmic. Also non-karmic are the movements of the body to sit down or the utterances of the syllables of the word “hello.”

All karmic actions are pathways that a karmic impulse takes (las-lam, path of karma). In the case of an action of the mind, the pathway is the train of thought enacted by the mind consciousness and accompanying mental factors and does not include the karmic urging that drives it. In the case of an action of the body or speech, the pathway itself is an urged karmic impulse, in the sense that it contains the movement of the body or the utterance of syllables of the words as the method implemented to cause the action to take place [as cited by Vasubandhu in “A Treasure House of Special Topics of Knowledge” (Chos mngon-pa’i mdzod, Skt. Abhidharmakośa), IV.78].

The mental factor of a karmic urging that drives the mind consciousness and accompanying mental factors in a destructive karmic action of the mind is motivated by a disturbing emotion or attitude. “Motivated” (kun-slong, Skt. samutthāna) simply means “caused to arise.” The disturbing emotion or attitude then accompanies the karmic action of the mind as one of the mental factors prodded by the karmic urging driving the action. Although both the urging and the destructive emotion or attitude are mental factors, there is no common locus (gzhi-mthun, common denominator) or example of a phenomenon that is both. In the case of a destructive pathway or action of body or speech, a disturbing emotion or attitude is one of the mental factors accompanying the body consciousness that causes the arm to stab someone or the speech to utter a lie. 

Depending on whether they are constructive or destructive, karmic actions of the body, speech and mind and the karmic impulses that drive or are in them function as either a positive karmic force (bsod-nams, Skt. puṇya) or a negative karmic force (sdig-pa, Skt. pāpa). Positive karmic force ripens at the time of death into the mind consciousness being prodded into taking the unobstructive unspecified body elements of one of the three better rebirth states as the physical basis to support it in its next lifetime. During this lifetime or a future one, positive karmic force ripens into the mental factor of a feeling of happiness accompanying a mental or sensory consciousness. In the case of negative karmic force, the body elements are those of one of the three worse rebirth states and the feeling is one of unhappiness.  

There is no such thing as “instant karma.” There is always a period of time between a manifest karmic action and the arising of its manifest ripened result. The connection between the two is maintained by a continuum of dormant karmic seeds (sa-bon, Skt. bīja). They are noncongruent affecting variables (ldan-min ’du-byed, Skt. rūpa-citta-viprayukta-saṃskāra), made ascertainable (gdags-pa, Skt. prapti; imputed) on the basis of the continuum of a mind consciousness. As neither a form of physical phenomenon nor a way of being aware of something, they do not share five things in common with that mind consciousness, such as focal object. From one point of view, the entire continuum of manifest and dormant periods functions as a constructive positive karmic force or destructive negative karmic force. From another point of view, however, the karmic seeds themselves are obstructive unspecified phenomena. They function as the obtaining causes (nyer-len-gyi rgyu, Skt. upādānahetu) for each successive iteration of themselves and thus are responsible for maintaining the continuum connecting the manifest periods.

The urged karmic impulses of body and speech are forms of physical phenomena. They have both a revealing form (rnam-par rig-byed-kyi gzugs, Skt. vijñapti-rūpa) and a nonrevealing form (rnam-par rig-byed ma-yin-pa’i gzugs, Skt. avijñāpti-rūpa). The revealing form is the movement of the body or the utterances of the speech that are the methods implemented for causing the karmic actions to take place. They last only as long as the karmic action is taking place and reveal that the motivating mental factors accompanying them are destructive or constructive. Nonrevealing forms are subtle forms of physical phenomena; they do not reveal anything. They arise with the action and once the karmic action has completed it continues with the continuum of the mind consciousness until it is lost by one of several means.

Nonrevealing forms are not made out of a collection of particles (rdul-phran, Skt. paramāṇu), although they derive from the physical elements that arise or are present simultaneous with their production. They are a form of physical phenomenon, but have neither shape nor color. They are “collected on the mental continuums” (sems-rgyud-la bsdus-pa) of beings, but are not “conjoined with their consciousness” (rnam-shes-kyis zin-pa). In other words, we cannot feel them like we can feel our bodies or states of the mind. They arise on our mental continuums only through a strong motivating aim and must be either constructive or destructive, never unspecified. Their continuity goes on from the moment they arise on our mental continuums until they are lost from it as the result of a specific action. They continue to be present even during meditative achievements of deep states of absorbed concentration and also regardless of our being distracted, asleep, unconscious and so forth. They are asserted in Vaibhashika and Madhyamaka, but not in any other Buddhist tenet systems. [As cited by Vasubandhu in “A Treasure House of Special Topics of Knowledge,” I.11.]

Nonrevealing forms include all vows. They are also acquired when we order someone else to commit a destructive or a constructive act of body or speech, when we build or sponsor something that helps others or harms them, when we rejoice in others’ constructive acts and so on. As karmic impulses, they build up positive or negative karmic force on our mental continuum when others commit an action we have ordered them to do, when others make use of what we have built or sponsored, and so on.

In short, any time we commit either a constructive or destructive impulsive action, we build up respectively either a positive karmic force for happiness or a negative karmic force for suffering and unhappiness. When the proper circumstances are met, they give rise to those feelings. Thus, all our happiness and suffering come about as the result of our former impulsive behavior. They do not occur for no reason at all, nor is it created by some almighty power who lords over our fate. As the Buddha has said:

You are your own best friend and your own worst enemy.

This is because, regardless of the situations or beings that provide the circumstances, we ourselves create all our happiness or problems by the way we think, speak and behave.

The Actual Way to Consider Its General Aspects

There are four general factors to consider about the laws of behavioral cause and effect: 

1. There is certainty about the results of our actions 
2. There is a great increase of results from what we do 
3. If we have not committed a certain action, we will not meet with its results
4. If we have committed an action, it will not go to waste without yielding a result.

[1] Regardless of what we think, say or do, or what our motivating state of mind might be, it is definite that constructive actions result in happiness, while destructive ones result in suffering and problems. Whatever happiness we enjoy, from the slightest cool breeze and upwards, is only the result of our previous positive actions and could never have arisen from our having been negative. The same is true with any suffering we experience, even that of a simple headache. It could only have come from something negative we did. Hot chili seeds can only produce hot peppers, while grape pits can only grow into a sweet fruit. As the Buddha has said in one of his Rules of Discipline Scriptural Texts (’Dul-ba lung, Skt. Vinaya-āgama):

No matter what type of action you have committed, the results will be in accordance.

There are The Four Sections of “The Rules of Discipline Scriptural Texts” (’Dul-ba lung sde-bzhi) in the Buddha’s Basket of Rules of Discipline (Dul-ba’i sde-snod, Skt. Vinayapiṭaka, Basket of Vinaya): 

• The Foundation for “The Rules of Discipline Scriptural Texts” (’Dul-ba lung gzhi, Skt. Vinaya Vastu)
• The Pratimoksha Sutra (So-sor thar-pa’i mdo, Skt. Prātimokṣa Sūtra) and Differentiations within the Rules of Discipline (’Dul-ba rnam-’byed, Skt. Vinaya Vibhaṅga), these two being counted as one 
• Foundation for the Minor Aspects of the Rules of Discipline (’Dul-ba phran-tshegs-kyi gzhi, Skt. Vinaya Kṣudraka Vastu) 
• The Latter Classic on the Rules of Discipline (’Dul-ba gzhung dam-pa, Skt. Vinayottara Grantha).

In the Sutra of the Wise and the Foolish (mDo mdzangs-blun, Skt. Damamūko-nāma Sūtra), XXXVII, the account is given of Yashabhadrika (sNyan-pa bzang-ldan), an extremely ugly dwarf with a voice like gold, who became a monk and made his life full of meaning. Once, King Prasenajit of Shravasti came with his army to Anathapindada’s Jetavana park (rGyal-byed-kyi tshal kun-dga’ ra-ba, Skt. Jetavanārāma) in search of Angulimala, that notorious murderer who had strung a rosary with a thumb from each of his 999 victims. Unaware that Buddha Shakyamuni had reformed and tamed this fearsome criminal who had now become an arhat, the king only knew that Angulimala was living in this park with the Buddha.

Fiercely, he stormed in with all his troops, but as he entered the walls, he heard a beautiful voice chanting the scriptures. It was so breathtaking, even the horses and elephants stopped in their tracks to listen. The king as well was very moved. Forgetting his mission, he asked the Buddha if he might see the monk with such an enchanting voice. The Buddha said it would be better not to, but the king insisted, and when he saw the deformed Yashabhadrika, he was shocked. Asking the Buddha the cause for this monk’s discordant voice and appearance, he was told the following account.

After the Third Buddha, Kashyapa, had passed away, a certain king had a stupa constructed to honor this Buddha. One of the laborers on the project was a monk who cursed and complained bitterly every day about the huge amount of work to be done and why did they have to make this monstrosity so big. Surely, a smaller one was enough. As a result, he was born as this short and ugly Yashabhadrika. When the construction was finished, however, the monk regretted all his complaining and offered a golden bell to crown the monument. This was the cause for his having such a melodious voice.

Another time, there was a minister of King Prasenajit, Mrigara (Blon-po Ri-dvags ’dzin) by name, whose mother Sagama (Ma Sa-ga-ma) had had thirty-two sons. All the boys were very athletic and fond of wrestling. The king loved to watch them play and showed them great favor. Another minister was jealous of the attention given the boys and one day presented them each with a crystal club in which he had cleverly concealed a knife. The lads gleefully took the clubs and, wielding them over their heads, fought a mock battle in the court. The king was all smiles. The scheming minister, however, told the king that this was no game and that the youths were plotting to assassinate him. As proof, he broke open one of the crystal clubs and revealed the sharp blade within. King Prasenajit was so aghast, he had the lads decapitated on the spot and sent their heads on the platter back to their mother. The cause for this was in a previous life the boys had been cattle-rustlers who had stolen a bull and slaughtered it. The king had been this bull, while their mother had been the innkeeper’s wife who had served the thirty-two bandits their meal of beef.

Suppose we do something negative, but with a positive motivation. Still, the destructive action will result in a problem. Any happiness experienced can only be the result of the beneficial motivation, which was a positive thought. It could not have come from the negative impulse (sdig-pa’i las, Skt. pāpa-karma) itself. For instance, in a previous life Buddha Shakyamuni had been the captain of a ship, which had as one of its oarsmen Minyag Dumdum (Mi-nyag dum-dum). Once, when they were transporting a party of 500 merchants, the captain became aware that this oarsman was planning to kill and rob the merchants. In order to save the 500 lives and prevent the oarsman from bringing upon himself dire consequences from this mass murder, the captain decided to kill Minyag Dumdum and accept upon himself whatever suffering might come from his own negative act.

The result of this bodhisattva’s noble and selfless motivation was that with this incident he completed building up his first zillion (grangs-med, Skt. asaṃkhya, countless) eons of positive karmic force, which helped bring him to the state of a Buddha. His act of murder, however, was still something negative by nature. In order to demonstrate that suffering and problems come from destructive actions, then even though the Buddha had eliminated all the obscurations that had been built up from his former karmic actions, and even though he had gained liberation, a definite release from all problems, and even though, when he normally walked, his feet never touched the ground, nevertheless, he once manifested the appearance of contracting a thorn in his foot. Explaining to his disciples that the cause of his splinter was this previous act of murder as the captain, he compassionately indicated in this way how it is certain that a destructive action can only have a suffering result. 

[2] Small actions can bring great results, just as a drop of poison can take a life and a tiny pill can cure a disease. Once, the Buddha visited a family. The woman of the house, being a devoted follower, made an offering to him of a sesame cake. The Buddha then prophesied to her, “In your next life you will be reborn in such and such a place and, as a result of your offering, you will become a pratyekabuddha arhat.” Her husband, who had no faith in the Buddha, said with disgust, “Why do you make up such stories just for a piece of cake?” The Buddha calmly replied, “I have no reason ever to lie.” He then described a huge bodhi tree, large enough to provide ample shade for 500 carts beneath its branches. By explaining to them how such a mighty tree had grown from a tiny seed no larger than sesame, he demonstrated in a down-to-earth manner how a great increase of results can arise from what we do.

There are many examples of seemingly trivial actions that had dire results, such as people saying to a monk that his voice was as poor as that of a dog, a frog or a monkey and then being reborn themselves 500 times as such a beast. We can recall the account of Kapila, the son of Manu, who in order to be the champion debater had called eighteen monks the names of different animals and was reborn as a sea monster with eighteen heads. 

Small positive actions can likewise have great consequences. When Vasubandhu was composing A Treasure House of Special Topics of Knowledge, he kept a caged pigeon which often heard him reciting his text. As a result of the impression the sound of these words made on its mental continuum, the pigeon was reborn as the child who grew up to become Sthiramati (Blo-gros brtan-pa). As soon as he could speak, he asked to be taken to his master Vasubandhu. He quickly became a close disciple and later wrote a famous commentary to the text he had listened to so often before. 

A similar example was Nagabodhi (Klu-byang). In his previous life, he too was a bird and, as a result of having listened to the teachings of Nagarjuna, he was reborn to become this outstanding disciple.

In my monastery, there was a monk who learned valid cognition, far-reaching discriminating awareness and the middle way very easily, but had a difficult time with the usually easier topics of abhidharma and rules of discipline. One high lama with clairvoyant powers of advanced awareness told us this was because in his previous life he had been a scorpion which had entered the gates of the monastery and visited the debate grounds for these first three subjects. It had been snatched and eaten by a hawk before it could reach the grounds for the last two topics and therefore had built up no propensities for them. This is why we do not shoo away flies or other insects when they land on Buddha statues or thangkas. Their contact with an object of safe direction may leave a beneficial impression on their mental continuums that will help them in future lives. 

The monastic education system in the Gelug monasteries covers five major topics, based on five great Indian scriptural texts: 

• Valid cognition, pramana (tshad-ma), is the study of the proofs for the validity of such essential points as the Three Supreme Gems, rebirth and omniscience. It is based on A Commentary on (Dignaga’s Compendium of) Validly Cognizing Minds (Tshad-ma rnam-’grel, Skt. Pramāṇavarttika) by Dharmakirti.
• Far-reaching discriminating awareness, prajnaparamita (phar-phyin), is the study of the stages and paths of mind (sa-lam) needed for the realization of voidness, liberation and enlightenment. It is based on A Filigree of Realizations (mNgon-rtogs-rgyan, Skt. Abhisamayālaṃkāra) by Maitreya.
• The middle way, Madhyamaka (dbu-ma), is the study of voidness according to the Prasangika-Madhyamaka view. Madhyamaka study is based on Engaging in the Middle Way (dBu-ma-la ’jug-pa, Skt. Madhyamakāvatāra) by Chandrakirti.
• Abhidharma, special topics of knowledge, covers the physical and mental constituents of limited beings, rebirth states, karma, disturbing emotions and attitudes, paths to liberation and so on. It is based on A Treasure House of Special Topics of Knowledge by Vasubandhu.
• Rules of discipline, Vinaya (’dul-ba), concerns the monastic vows. It is based on The Vinaya Sutra (’Dul-ba’i mdo, Skt. Vinayasūtra) by Gunaprabha.

We have already seen how even making the tiniest offering with a pure motivation can bring monumental results. The Dharma King Ashoka, in a previous life as a small boy, had offered to Buddha Vipashyin (rNam-par gzigs) a handful of sand which he visualized as gold. As a result, he was reborn as this powerful king who spread the Dharma far and wide. 

At the time of the Second Buddha, Kanakamuni (gSer-thub), there was an old couple who were so poor that they had only a single piece of worn cotton cloth to share between them as a wrap-around. When one went out, he or she would wear the rag, while the other would stay at home. One day, the woman went to town and saw many people making offerings to the Buddha. She developed a strong aspiration to do the same, but all she had was the tattered piece of cloth on her back. She spoke with one of the Buddha’s disciples and asked if it would be all right to make an offering of her cloth, and the disciple said yes. She arranged to leave it tomorrow on a rock near the road and she would run off to the jungle. The next day, the Buddha accepted this humble, yet sincere offering, said many prayers over it and then left it on the rock for the old woman to have back. As a result, not only did the couple receive during their lifetime rich garments befitting a king and queen, but also the old woman was reborn fully clothed! When she was ordained as the nun Pandari (dGe-slong-ma dKar-mo), the linen cloth she was born with transformed into saffron robes.

Therefore, we never belittle any action, no matter how trivial it might seem. By our many small actions, we build up an ever-greater karmic force to reach our spiritual goals. In the Special Verses Grouped by Topic (Ched-du brjod-pa’i tshoms, Skt. Udānavarga, The Tibetan Dhammapada), XVII.5–6, the Buddha has said:

Having done some small destructive action, do not think, “In the future the results of this will not affect me.” Just as large buckets are filled by the flow of drops of water, so too the mental continuums of infantile beings become filled with negative karmic force built up little by little. Having done some small constructive action, do not think, “In the future the results of this will not affect me.” Just as large buckets are filled by the flow of drops of water, so too the mental continuums of stable beings become filled with positive karmic force built up little by little.

In the Sutra of the Wise and the Foolish, XVI, the account is given of the householder Shrijati (Khyim-bdag sPal-skyes). It gives us many further examples of the operation of the laws of behavioral cause and effect. Once, at the time of Buddha Shakyamuni, there was a householder by the name of Shrijati who was eighty years old. He had a large family, but was very unhappy. All his family members were against him and used to taunt and make fun of everything he said or did. Completely disgusted, he left them one day and went to Shariputra to request ordination. Shariputra used his clairvoyant powers of advanced awareness to search Shrijati’s previous lives for some constructive act that could serve as a root for supporting his entry into monastic life, but finding nothing, he sent the old man away.

Shrijati broke down and wept. The Buddha heard his laments and personally went and told him, “Having overcome and gained all, I can see much further than Shariputra. You have many seeds of positive karmic force.” The Buddha described how once, many, many eons ago, he had been a fly that had landed on a donkey turd which had floated around a stupa three times in a stream of rainwater. “By the virtue of this seed as a basis, you can become ordained and you will be successful.”

The Buddha accepted the old man into his order and put him in the charge of Maudgalyayana. He entered a monastery and was taught along with all the young novices. The boys mocked and teased him relentlessly. As in most countries, it is difficult to be old. There is a saying in Tibetan, “An old horse, an old dog and an old man are all looked down upon.” Shrijati became very discouraged. “Everyone is against me,” he thought, “first in my family and now here in the monastery.”

He went to the Ganges River to put an end to his suffering. He offered many prayers, “I am not being disrespectful to the Dharma,” he said, “but what can I do as a miserable old man!” As he was about to jump in, Maudgalyayana came by and grabbed hold of him. The old man was very embarrassed and explained what he had been driven to do. Maudgalyayana told him not to be so foolish and to let him bring him back to the monastery. He had Shrijati take hold of his robe and with his extraphysical powers flew off in the air.

As they soared over the countryside, the old man saw a woman’s rotting corpse with a snake crawling in and out of the eye sockets and nose. “What is this?” he asked. “Now is not the time to explain,” replied Maudgalyayana. Then, he saw a woman heating a cauldron of water on a fire and, when it had boiled, jumping in. When he inquired, again Maudgalyayana told him he would explain everything later. Next, he saw a tree that was crawling with worms and insects and screaming in pain. He saw all sorts of strange sights.

Maudgalyayana then took him across the ocean. They finally landed on the other shore where there was a skeleton of a huge whale in the sand, and both of them sat down on one of its ribs. Maudgalyayana first explained to Shrijati about the corpse with the snake. When the woman had been alive, she was very infatuated with her own beauty and always used to admire herself in the mirror. Her husband took her on a sea journey, and she drowned. Her body was washed ashore, and because of her attachment she was reborn as a snake going in and out of the orifices of the corpse of her previous life.

As for the woman boiling water and then cooking herself, once there was a very devout lady who used to make offerings to a meditator in a nearby cave. She would send food with a maid, but the girl always ate most of it herself and gave only a little. One day, the lady visited the cave and noticed that the meditator was skinny while her maid had put on considerable weight. When she accused the maid of deception, the girl denied eating the offerings and said, “I would sooner eat myself!” As a result, she was reborn as this woman with the cauldron.

Next, Maudgalyayana told the old man about the tree. Once, there was a monk who was the manager of his monastery’s stores. Instead of giving the provisions only to the monks, as was his proper duty, he began distributing the monastery’s supply of firewood to just anybody who would pay him nicely for it. As a result, he was reborn as a being with the shape of a tree, while those who had illegally received wood from him were reborn as worms and insects tormenting and eating him.

They had a very interesting conversation like this while sitting on the rib of the whale. Finally, they got down to the leviathan itself. “These are the bones of your own previous life,” Maudgalyayana told the startled old man. He explained how before his rebirth as a whale, he had been a Dharma king. One day, the king had been playing chess when a minister brought in a criminal and asked what to do with him. The king was so engrossed in his game that without looking up or asking for details, he simply answered, “Deal with him according to the law.” The written laws of the land were very strict. Obeying his lord, the minister led the poor criminal out and immediately had him executed. Later, when the game of chess was finished, the king asked the minister what he had been bothering him about before. When the official told him about the criminal and proudly reported that he had carried out orders and had had him put to death, the horrified king was filled with regret at his negligence. “Because of your remorse as this king,” Maudgalyayana explained, “you were not reborn as a trapped being in a joyless realm, but as this whale.”

Maudgalyayana went on to describe to the enthralled old man how, as this monster of the deep, he had opened his cavernous mouth when a ship had gone by. He had terrified the passengers so badly that everyone had recited out loud, “We turn to the Three Rare and Supreme Gems for safe direction.” Having heard these words, the leviathan had closed its jaws and, sinking beneath the waves, spared the lives of the people on board. “When you finally died as this whale,” he concluded, “your bones were washed ashore right here.”

Shrijati thought a great deal about all these examples of the laws of behavioral cause and effect. Realizing how unawareness was the cause for all the destructive actions that had brought about these various suffering situations, he achieved the state of an arhat while sitting on the ribs of the monster he had once been. When it came time to return across the ocean to his monastery, he could fly himself without having to hold on to the robes of Maudgalyayana. Later, at a discourse, the Buddha pointed out the old monk before the huge crowd and asked him to rise and report his experiences. Shrijati told everyone how through the kindness and skill of Maudgalyayana he had rid himself of all his emotional obscurations and had become an arhat, and the crowd was astonished.

We too can learn a great deal from these accounts. When we have considered well these first two points about the way in which there is certainty about the results of our actions and how there is a great increase of results from what we do, we must make a definite decision. We must decide definitely to implement as many constructive actions and avoid as many destructive ones as we can, and also to engage ourselves in even the most trifling positive acts and refrain from even the most minor negative ones.

[3] In a war or a large accident, many people are killed, but certain individuals escape unharmed. This does not happen for no reason at all. Rather it is a clear indication of the next general law of behavioral cause and effect: if we have not committed a certain action, we will not meet with its results.

When the stable elder Kanakavatsa (gSer-be’u) was born, seven golden elephants miraculously appeared. All their droppings were solid gold, and they followed him wherever he went throughout his life. In fact, it was rather embarrassing at times, and no matter what Kanakavatsa did, they would not go away. The reason was in a previous life, he had repaired a clay statue of the elephant that was the mount of the Second Buddha, Kanakamuni, and had coated it with gold-leaf paint.

King Ajatashatru coveted these seven golden elephants and tried seven times to steal them from their master. However, each time he led them away, they would vanish into the earth and miraculously reappear at the side of the elder. This was because the king had not done any actions in the past that would warrant his possession of such an ever-flowing source of wealth. 

Kanakavatsa was one of the sixteen stable elders (gnas-brtan bcu-drug, Skt. ṣoḍaśa-sthavira, sixteen arhats), a group of the Buddha’s disciples who became arhats and were deputed to the various directions to teach and preserve the Dharma. The other fifteen are Angaja (Yan-lag ’byung), Ajita (Ma-pham-pa), Vanavasin (Nags-na gnas), Kalika (Dus-ldan), Vajriputra (rDo-rje-mo’i bu), Bhadra (bZang-po), Kanakabharadhvaja (Bha-ra dha-dza gser-can mchog), Bakula (Ba-ku-la), Rahula, Pindolabharadhvaja (Bha-ra dha-dza bsod-snyoms len), Nagasena (Klu’i-sde), Gopaka (sPed-byed), Abheda (Mi-phyed-pa), Mahapanthaka (Lam-chen, “Big Road”) and Chudapanthaka (Lam-chung, “Little Alley”).

Queen Shyama (bTsun-mo sNgo-bsangs-ma), the wife of King Udayi (rGyal-po Shar-pa) of Varanasi (Ba-ra na-si, Benares), had achieved the state of a non-returner, and her 500 ladies-in-waiting had all realized voidness. Even though they had the extraphysical powers to be able to soar through the air, they could not fly any distance away when the Queen’s palace caught on fire. This was because in a previous life, they had all participated in burning down the hut of a family from the brahmin priest caste. Saying, “If one does not bear oneself the results of one’s own actions and karmic forces, then who will?” the Queen fell back with all her attendants into the blaze and perished like a moth that had plunged into the flame of a lamp.

There was, however, one lowly hunchbacked maid, Sukubja (Bran-mo sGur-mchog) by name, who had not been involved in this previous arson. Although she possessed no supernatural powers, she was able to escape from the burning palace by crawling through a drainage gutter. This was because not having committed the cause for a negative karmic force, she did not meet with its disastrous consequences.

[4] If we have committed an action, it will not go to waste without yielding a result. In the Sutra on Hundreds of Karmic Deeds (mDo-sde las brgya-pa, Skt. Karma-śataka Sūtra), the Buddha has said:

The karmic actions of embodied beings do not go to waste, even should hundreds of eons (pass). When the conditions and time have both come about, each will in fact bear its fruit.

Positive and negative karmic forces on our mental continuums never grow stale or wear out. If the conditions are assembled, they will ripen without any doubt. We can recall the example of the householder Shrijati, whose karmic force that ripened as a root for his entering monastic life had been built up many eons before when he was a fly that rode around a stupa on a donkey-turd.

King Shatavahanabhadra (rGyal-po bDe-spyod bzang-po), also known as King Udayana, the patron of Nagarjuna and recipient of his Letter to a Friend (bShes-spring, Skt. Suhṛllekha), had a son whose mother, the queen, once made him a set of royal robes. The boy, however, said he would not wear them until he became king. His mother told him then he would never wear them, for he could never ascend to the throne. Nagarjuna had blessed his father, the king, to live a life as long as his own, and the master had attained control over his life span.

Undaunted, the prince decided to assassinate Nagarjuna. However, try as he might, he could never succeed. Finally, the prince approached Nagarjuna and pleaded that he allow himself to be killed. For special reasons, Nagarjuna agreed. Looking back on all he had done in previous lives, he told the boy that the only negative karmic force he had left that could act as a root for his being murdered was from when he had been a monk who had cut some grass. On that occasion, he had knowingly chopped off the head of an ant. If the boy took a blade of grass and passed it across his neck, the assassination would be accomplished. The prince followed these instructions, and as soon as he touched a blade of grass to Nagarjuna’s neck, his head immediately fell off. 

Before he was decapitated, Nagarjuna blessed his head and body that they would not decay. The prince hid the two as far apart from each other as he could. They are slowly drawing closer together. When they meet, they will join and Nagarjuna will live once more and spread the Madhyamaka view. This will occur according to a prophecy from the Kalachakra Tantra (mChog-gi dang-po’i sangs-rgyas-las phyung-ba rgyud-kyi rgyal-po dpal dus-kyi ’khor-lo zhes-bya-ba, Skt. Paramādibuddha-uddhṛta-śrī-kālacakra-nāma-tantra-rājā).

According to the description of a world-system as found in the sources of this anuttarayoga tantra, Shambhala (bDe-’byung) is a land in the northern part of our Rose-Apple Island. Although its inhabitants are humans, they and their country are normally invisible to us. King Suchandra (Zla-ba bzang-po) of Shambhala came to India and received A Kalachakra Tantra when it was delivered by the Buddha at the stupa of Shri Danya Kataka (dPal ’bras-spungs, the All-Around Perfect Mound of Rice). The King brought these teachings back to Shambhala and started a line of seven Dharma Kings and twenty-five Kalki rulers (rigs-ldan, Skt. kulika, holders of the castes). Although these teachings were later spread to India and then to Tibet, their main preserve is still Shambhala.

At present, we are in the reign of the twenty-first Kalki ruler. During the future rule of Rudrachakrin (Drag-po ’khor-can), the twenty-fifth holder, there will be a great war in India against a group of savage people. This king will come to India and defeat these hordes, after which a golden age will dawn. At that time the Kalachakra (Dus-’khor) teachings will flourish widely, and it is then that Nagarjuna will live again.

Maudgalyayana was famous for his extraphysical powers, yet one time he received a beating from a gang of ruffians and was pelted with mud. Shariputra asked why he had not used any of his powers to ward off the attack. Maudgalyayana replied that he had been so overwhelmed by the force of his previous karma ripening that it did not even occur to him to deploy any manifestation, let alone demonstrate his powers of emanation. In a previous life, he had said cruel words to his mother and had used foul language which had hurt her deeply. The negative karmic force built up from this had not gone to waste.

Therefore, just as a seed will grow unless a crow comes and eats it, likewise, unless we purify ourselves of our negative karmic forces through honestly admitting our wrongs and applying the four opponent forces, we will definitely experience the results of our destructive actions. Similarly, just as a seed, unless scorched or damaged by the sun, will produce a vigorous sprout at its proper time when it meets with conducive circumstances, so too, unless we devastate our positive karmic forces by becoming angry, we will experience the results of our constructive actions to their fullest extent and at their proper time. 

Although negative karmic forces along with their roots, referring to the propensities from and for destructive actions, can be totally eliminated by applying very forcefully their opponent powers, positive karmic forces are not the same. The roots of constructive force (dge-rtsa, roots of virtue) for happiness cannot become completely severed. Strong anger can only severely damage their ability to produce their result, in which case their ripening (rnam-smin, Skt. vipāka) will be delayed and much weaker.

Therefore, we should consider well these second two laws of behavioral cause and effect, how if we have not committed a certain action, we will not meet with its results, and if we have committed an action, it will not go to waste without yielding some fruit. Then, considering the methods as well for purifying ourselves of negative karmic forces and not damaging our positive ones through becoming angry, we must come to a definite conclusion that we will live our life according to sound judgment. We will practice and avoid exactly what is proper in accordance with the laws of behavioral cause and effect.

Differentiating and Considering Individual Aspects

The point of pondering over the general laws of behavioral cause and effect is to gain belief in these facts based on reason. We should not be like a nomad who does not believe in airplanes simply because he has never seen one. Similarly, we should not have disbelief or disrespect for the laws of behavioral cause and effect simply because we have never seen or known of them before. When a nomad first comes to the city and enters a tiny room in which the doors shut, the room starts to lift, and when the doors open again, he is in a different place, or when he sees a tiny person inside a box telling him the news, he cannot believe his eyes. When the nomads first saw people riding bicycles in Lhasa, they thought they were seeing ghosts. Rather, we should be like those who have read and traveled widely. Such broad-minded and experienced people do not have any superstitions and are never surprised by anything new. As a Kadampa geshe once said:

Do not think a lot, but when you do, think about the laws of behavioral cause and effect.

All knowable phenomena can be divided into: 

• Obvious phenomena (mngon-gyur)
• Obscure phenomena (lkog-gyur)
• Extremely obscure phenomena (shin-tu lkog-gyur). 

Obvious things, like a vase and a pillar, can be known through valid straightforward cognition by anyone with undistorted senses. 

Something obscure, like dependent arising or voidness, can be known by relying on a correct line of reasoning, through a valid inferential cognition based on the power of phenomena (dngos-stobs rjes-dpag, the power of evidence). 

Extremely obscure phenomena, such as the laws of behavioral cause and effect, however, can only be validly known through an inferential cognition based on confidence (yid-ches rjes-dpag), namely by relying on a person who is a valid source of information. 

As Shantideva has said in Engaging in Bodhisattva Behavior (IV.7): 

And how the karma works for someone (...) is beyond all thought: only the Omniscient can understand.

The Buddha is a valid source of information. Why is this so? It is because if what he has said about such profound and obscure topics as voidness and the methods for achieving stilled and settled and exceptionally perceptive states of mind, shamatha and vipashyana,  can be validated by our own experience, then we can validly infer that what he has said about the extremely obscure topic of behavioral cause and effect is also correct. After all, if his sole motivation to reach an omniscient state of enlightenment was the love and compassion to benefit others and help them overcome their problems, it is illogical that he would lie or deceive everyone about such a crucial issue as their behavior and its results. 

Therefore, as Tsongkhapa has said in Praise of Dependent Arising (rTen-’brel bstod-pa), 30: 

By this very path of dependent arising, which is the reason your speech is seen as peerless, one can develop certainty that your other statements are valid as well. 

Having taken safe direction from the Buddhas and convinced that they are valid sources of information and, more specifically, having gained the confidence that what they have said about behavioral cause and effect is correct, we must now learn the specifics about what we must do or avoid in order to achieve our goals. Not only must we become aware of the most beneficial and constructive type of behavior to adopt, but we must also actually behave in that way. 

In short, we must lead an ethical life based on sound judgment, not simply because the Buddha has told us to do so, but because: 

• We wish to be happy and not to have any problems
• The Buddha has told us how to bring this about
• The Buddha is a valid source of information.

The Buddha has indicated clearly that regardless of the feelings that accompany our actions – we may experience superficial pleasure while committing rape or hardships and difficulty while refraining from stealing when poor – the long-term result of our destructive behavior is suffering and problems [as cited by Asanga in “An Anthology of Special Topics of Knowledge” (Chos mngon-pa kun-las btus-pa, Skt. Abhidharmasamuccaya), 257-4-5 to 5-3.]

Therefore, no matter who we are or whatever desirable goal we may wish to achieve, we must think, speak and act in an ethical and positive way in order to bring this about. 

As Chandrakirti has said in his Engaging in the Middle Way, II.8:

The (root) cause for (the attainment of) a higher rebirth or the definite goodness (of liberation or enlightenment) by ordinary beings (who have not yet developed any pathway minds), by (shravakas) who have developed (them) from (listening to) enlightening speech, by (pratyekabuddhas) who are set in the nature of (their pathway minds leading to) their own purified state and by the spiritual children of the Triumphant (bodhisattvas) is nothing other than ethical self-discipline.

At this point in our spiritual training, then, when we have developed an initial scope of motivation, with which we seek to avoid a miserable rebirth and to gain a higher one as a human or some divine being, we must learn to differentiate well the different types of impulsive behavior and their results. Having considered these points, we will be able to develop sound ethical judgment and shape our own future.