I’ve pondered on Dzogchen meditation (the “Final Work”) for several years, but only recently felt I had the tools to pursue it as a practice. Before COVID, I regularly practiced mindfulness meditation, took a Transcendental Meditation course, and incorporated its practices into my routine. But Dzogchen- the big boi. Very intimidating to approach, and even stranger to understand.
Scores of people have told me, “You need to consult with a Dzogchen master, only they can properly teach you Dzogchen.” As a former faith practitioner, my bullshit alarms started whirring. If Dzogchen is something that can be cognitively understood, in theory, I shouldn’t need a guru to guide me, I simply need the information that masters use to guide others.
So, I created a guide for myself, as exhaustive and comprehensive as possible, to review my meditations against, and to test whether I’m actually doing Dzogchen or not. Suffice it to say that the online community does not like it one bit. Not because the content is incorrect, but because it doesn’t engage with their subjective understanding of spirituality, namely, the practice known as “lineage transmission”, ie. the supernatural transmission of the nirvana state of Buddha from master to master to master to student (always omitting the fact that the original recordings of this practice 800 years ago were “received” supernaturally through divine revelation from someone who was already dead, and probably very forgetful about writing important things down).
As someone who has stood behind pulpits telling people that I “knew” certain things about the supernatural, I’m aware of the nature of faith propositions. If I don’t actually investigate what’s going on, I will ultimately believe something that isn’t true, and may very well propogated that deception or confusion to other people. Instead, I’m starting a Dzogchen practice from a starkly skeptical perspective, hoping to find something a bit deeper (if possible) than what I experienced using Transcendental Meditation.
If I don’t, eh, big shrug, no harm no foul. The scene of Andy Kaufman (played by Jim Carrey) in Man on the Moon, where he cries as he notices the faith healer’s sleight of hand while supposedly performing his miracles comes to mind. I know I’ll die disappointed, but I can control how much of that disappointment comes from me.