analyze it in terms of past, present, and future. If the sound we hear turns out to be
from a person of the opposite sex, we might consider it good and that person
attractive; then we might evaluate that person’s height, sexuality, complexion,
moral standards, financial condition, and so on. While listening to that voice we
may deduce the identity of his or her parents, close relatives, class status, friends,
enemies, and so on. Then, bored with this train of thought, we may move on and
think of our current concerns: our business, our land, and so on. This linear
conceptual thought is called a “chain of mental delusion.” From the perception of
an initial concrete sound, after a long series of connected discursive concepts, the
mind finally moves on to another unrelated place. Isn’t that so?
We are constantly deluded, and, in each of us, mental concepts are arising
continuously. Sometimes we look inside and just assume that our
conceptualizations are right. If we wonder about some thoughts and are able to
thoroughly examine them, then it is possible we may understand that they are
mental delusion. Just as in a conversation, we might begin by talking about a
business issue and at the end find ourselves talking about some other issue, like
war. Isn’t that right? Associations arise from one to another in a stream of thought
dominated by desire or some other emotional affliction. Insofar as such thought
streams are repeated, this linear pattern becomes a circular one and is known as
“cyclic existence” or “samsara.” The first emotive thought in the series is the cause
and each successive momentary thought creates a condition; the cause connected
with its conditions develops into a delusion, and that is the beginning of endless
wandering in samsara.
In The Treasury of the Dharmadhatu, Longchenpa says,
With the mind preoccupied by different petty concerns,
A moment of inconsequential fixation becomes a habit,
And a day, a month, a year—a lifetime—goes by unheeded.
We deceive ourselves by construing the nondual as duality.It is a characteristic habit of our mind to criticize and correct others and to blame
them for our own sins. But when we need to attain some objective, we first devise
a plan and then implement it. Take a thief, for example, who knows that stealing
others’ possessions is both illegal and immoral, and who becomes active at
nighttime when everyone is asleep. He knows the difficulties for thieves these
days, with dogs in the compound and security guards and alarms inside the house,
and he knows full well the heavy penalties that will fall upon him if he is caught.
But he is undeterred by such considerations and forges ahead—whatever the mind
instructs, the body performs without argument. When the thief is successful, his
mind takes the glory, inflating with self-congratulatory pride. If he is caught
redhanded, then his mind scolds his body, complaining that it did this and that
wrongly, and it was because of a physical fault that the body was tortured by the
police.
Once a man called “Thangpa,” while drunk, decided to thrash his old dad. The
next day, during his hangover, he was so ashamed that he cut off the fingers of his
own hand. The mind made the mistake, but the hand received the punishment.