Advice for Alak Do-Ngak

Translator's Introduction

What little we know about Alak Do-Ngak Gyatso (or Japa Do-Ngak, as he is also called)[1] has all too often been presented as footnotes in the biographies of his more illustrious contemporaries. In the story of Dza Patrul Rinpoche, for instance, he appears as a student and intermediary, attempting to arrange a meeting between Patrul and the poet and yogi Shabkar Tsokdruk Rangdrol (1781–1851). The meeting never took place, but Patrul did set out on the journey, only learning of Shabkar’s death after he had already traveled as far as Golok. Then, in Jamgön Mipham’s biography, Alak Do-Ngak is cast in the role of misguided opponent, a hapless scholar who loses to Mipham in a debate:

Japa Do-Ngak, a great scholar of the new traditions, stated that there were some invalid arguments in Mipham’s commentary on the wisdom chapter of the Bodhicaryāvatāra. The foremost of learned, disciplined, and accomplished masters, Patrul Rinpoche, was engaged to judge, and the debate continued for several days. Most spectators could only say which arguments were in accord with their own position; they could not tell who had won and who had lost. When Lama Rigchok asked Patrul Rinpoche which of the pair was the winner, he said, “I don’t know if I can be the one to decide this or whether I can put an end to it. It is rather like the saying, ‘It is not for a father to praise his son, but for his enemies. It is not for a mother to praise her daughter, but for the community.’ Accordingly, Do-Ngak’s monks told me that early in the debate they clearly saw a ray of light emanate from the heart of Lama Mipham’s image of Mañjuśrī, the representation of his yidam deity, and connect with the lama’s heart. That really says it all.”[2]

Some accounts of the same debate mention that at its conclusion Alak Do-Ngak was forced to burn a treatise he had written on Dzogchen. Khetsun Sangpo Rinpoche said that Alak Do-Ngak was so upset at losing and then seeing his treatise cast into the flames that he broke down and wept.[3] Tulku Thondup Rinpoche also heard the same story of Alak Do-Ngak’s distress, but he offers another possible explanation:

Khenpo Chemchok, my own teacher, used to say that Könme Khenpo, my predecessor, once asked Alak Do-Ngak if it was true that he cried after the debate with Mipham. He replied that he had wept, but not because he lost the argument. It was because Patrul Rinpoche chastised him. Whenever he was winning, Patrul would say, “I told you to meditate on love and compassion, but instead you’ve filled your head with all this intellectualizing!” Yet whenever it was Mipham who appeared to be ahead, Patrul Rinpoche offered no such criticism. Alak Do-Ngak told Patrul, “I didn’t neglect your instructions. I have meditated on bodhicitta.” But it was the accusation of failing to apply his teacher’s instructions, rather than the humiliation of losing, that made him weep.[4]

Whatever the reasons might have been, for Alak Do-Ngak to be represented in a state of sadness like this is rare in Tibetan Buddhist literature. It illustrates what Janet Gyatso has called a “complicated dialectic” between appreciating the greatness of adepts on the one hand, and seeing them as imperfect or complicated human beings on the other.[5] Whether we should regard Alak Do-Ngak as imperfect is of course debatable (no pun intended), but any such judgment is hindered by a lack of biographical material and the fact that his own writings have not survived.

In the absence of any texts, it is difficult to say what it was that Alak Do-Ngak objected to in Mipham’s commentary on the wisdom chapter of the Bodhicaryāvatāra. Yet we do know at least some of what it was that Mipham objected to in Alak Do-Ngak’s views on Dzogchen. That is because Mipham names his opponent in his most important Dzogchen work, Trilogy on Fundamental Mind—a set of texts, it should be noted, that was completed and published only after Mipham’s death. Essentially, Mipham rejects Alak Do-Ngak’s identification of the pure awareness of Dzogchen with the “fundamental mind” described in the Guhyasamāja Tantra, because he claims that both are subtle forms of ordinary consciousness. This is not permissible, says Mipham, because it would imply that rigpa arises from causes and conditions, whereas in fact rigpa, unlike the ordinary mind, is beyond causality; it is unborn and therefore unceasing.

The only sources of information about Alak Do-Ngak himself are the brief references already given, in addition to one or two recent biographical sketches—except, that is, for a series of verses offering advice on retreat, which Patrul Rinpoche wrote for Alak Do-Ngak and are translated below. As one recent biography claims that Alak Do-Ngak went into retreat shortly after the debate, it is tempting to see references to the contest within these verses. When, for example, Patrul says that his words are “to dispel the sadness of a dear friend,” could this be the sadness that Alak Do-Ngak felt after losing the debate? Unfortunately, there is not enough information in the text to be sure.

Given Patrul Rinpoche’s reported comments to Alak Do-Ngak during the debate, it is interesting to note how critical he is of scholasticism in his advice. He speaks, for example, of the “hollow, husk-like words of scholars” and stresses that there is “no need for the many tools of varied fields of knowledge.” By the same token, he emphasizes the importance of cultivating renunciation, love, and compassion above all else. And references to the higher teachings, such as Dzogchen, are conspicuous by their absence. As so often in his writings, Patrul Rinpoche is self-deprecating, referring to himself as an “old dog,” “wicked,” and “ragged Abu.” There is a poignancy to his encouragements to Alak Do-Ngak to remain in solitude for nine years, even if it means they will never meet again. Indeed, if the text was written after the debate, Patrul Rinpoche would not live much longer.

What follows, then, is more than just a poem of advice on the importance of remaining in solitude. It offers Patrul Rinpoche’s views on a subject close to his own heart: he spent most of his life in retreat and even wrote this text while residing in “the mountain solitude of Dhichung.” But it is also one of the few surviving textual clues to the mysterious life of Alak Do-Ngak. And if we read it as a moving attempt to console a dear but despondent disciple, then it has a further dimension, as an encouragement to respond to an ordinary human situation by transcending ordinary human limitations.

Bibliography

Kun bzang dpal ldan. “gangs ri’i khrod kyi smra ba’i seng ge gcig pu ’jam mgon mi pham rgya mtsho’i rnam thar snying po bsdus pa.” In Mi pham, mkhas pa’i tshul la ’jug pa’i sgo. Xining: mTsho sngon mi rigs dpe skrun khang, 1988, 1–43

Mi-pam-gya-tso. Fundamental Mind: The Nyingma View of the Great Completeness. Translated and edited by Jeffrey Hopkins. Ithaca, NY: Snow Lion Publications, 2006.

Tulku Thondup. Masters of Meditation and Miracles: The Longchen Nyingthig Lineage of Tibetan Buddhism. Boston: Shambhala, 1996.

Version: 1.0-20250506

In Golok he is known chiefly with the honorific as Alak Do-Ngak, but elsewhere in Kham he is often referred to as Japa Do-Ngak. Unfortunately, there seems to be no consensus on how to spell Japa: some sources have ’gya[’] pa, others ’ja’ pa or even ’bya ba, and there are some texts that alternate between them. ↩
Kun bzang dpal ldan, gangs ri’i khrod kyi smra ba’i seng ge gcig pu ’jam mgon mi pham rgya mtsho’i rnam thar snying po bsdus pa, 22. ↩
Mi-pam-gya-tso, Fundamental Mind: The Nyingma View of the Great Completeness, 24–25. ↩
Personal communication, October 2014. ↩
Janet Gyatso used this expression and made this point during her talk (attended by the translator) as part of a memorial panel in honor of the late E. Gene Smith held at Columbia University on February 12, 2011. ↩

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Advice for Alak Do-Ngak

by Patrul Rinpoche

Before the holy nyagrodha, the very best of trees,
All alone, you tamed the hosts of Māra and his army,
Simply through the force of your loving kindness—
Supreme guide who attained full awakening, care for me!

O Protector, you renounced the kingdom of a universal monarch,
Casting it aside as if it were nothing more than poisoned food.
And, all alone, you departed for the quiet of the forest,
There to accomplish single-pointed meditation—thus we've heard.

Therefore, these delightful mountain solitudes
Are like the family estate to the supreme guide’s heirs,
And, as the best of protectors himself has said,
To rely on solitude is indeed the pinnacle of joys!

Forests, hermitages and isolated dwelling places—
These are the outer solitude of the Victor's heirs.
Avoiding selfishness and faint-hearted fears—
This is the bodhisattvas' internal isolation.

Keeping, therefore, to outer forms of solitude,
Tame the inner afflictions through tranquillity and insight,
And aspire to the supreme conduct of Samantabhadra—
Possessing such good fortune one is truly the Buddhas' heir.

With its sweetly cascading mountain streams,
Rocky mountain shelters ascending to heaven,
And gently falling dew drops of whitest moonlight—
This mountain retreat surpasses even the deva realm.

The dance of the slender trees does not stir the passions,
And sweet birdsong brings neither attachment nor aversion,
Enveloped in non-conceptuality’s gentle, cooling shade—
Such youthful companionship is surely better than a silent void!

Undisturbed by noisy chatter, that thorn in meditation’s side,
Alone in this excellent place of unattended solitude,
The old monkey of the mind has nowhere left to roam,
And so, settling down within, finds its satisfaction.

Under the bright oppressive sunlight of busy, bustling crowds,
Our own faults and unhelpful thoughts eclipse the constellations,
But when embraced by threefold solitude's cooling nectar beams,
Such faults can easily be overcome through the proper antidotes.

When it's undisturbed by rippling thoughts of sadness,
The pool-like surface of the mind is still, unmoving,
And faith and compassion’s reflections readily arise.
In such constancy, what need is there for a companion?

If the mirror of mind is wiped clean, time and again,
And uncluttered with objects or circumstances,
Study, reflection and meditation present a clear impression,
And what is there to prevent the dawn of Dharma’s light?

Hunger, thirst, cold and the like—all forms of physical affliction,
Together with sadness, fear and all such mental suffering,
Can, through the teachings, enhance the purifying path
And, unburdened by avoidance or indulgence, adorn the mind!

The pleasures of the five senses, longed for by the foolish,
Are not to be found in solitude as they are among the devas,
But joys of Dharma in their hundreds, lauded by the wise,
Are more abundant in a lonely forest than in Tuṣita’s paradise.

To the bodhisattva who sees suffering as a spur to diligence,
There is nothing that could conflict with Dharma practice.
Should hundreds of thousands of demonic hordes arise as foes,
How could they affect the wise for whom adversities are allies?

Savouring the fine fruit of the teacher’s nectar-like instructions,
Do not chase after the hollow, husk-like words of the scholars;
Seeking the bright luminescence of the bodhisattvas’ compassion,
Do not hanker after the flickering lights of ordinary conversation.

Like a smith skilfully taming and ornamenting the mind,
With no need for the many tools of varied fields of knowledge,
It's enough to take up the blade of renunciation and compassion,
Thereby to transform a negative character's stubborn hide.

A single nectar shower of the teacher’s compassion
Can cause the ripening crop of qualities to grow,
As the clouds of devotion amass again and again,
And there’s no need to fear an untimely frost.

Love and affection are all the greater
For friends, teachers and family living far away,
But it's hard to feel so when they’re close by,
As intimacy incites only irritation!

Faith and compassionate love, cultivated in solitude,
For the lofty, the lowly and all those in between,
Tied to enlightened action with the rope of aspiration,
Will never come undone throughout one’s future lives.

Even the vast scented leaves of empty talk and words
Can be embraced by the harsh touch of a serpent’s evil,
But for one who's grasped the subtle meaning, like sandalwood,
What unhappiness is there in separation from an old dog like me?

If this old dog survives and is still here nine years hence,
There’ll be time to hear his barking speeches once again.
But noble beings are fashioned by the warmth of experience,
And while the breath has not yet faded, it’s wrong to delay.

The supreme, gracious teacher is like all the buddhas in person,
So let his ambrosial teaching seep into the centre of your heart.
And if, through diligent practice, you imbibe the vital essence,
You’ll attain immortality in this very lifetime—that’s avowed!

But to remain in solitude without taming the mind
Is to be like the wild woodland beasts and birds,
As the supreme Victorious One himself has said.
Vital it is, then, to unite outer and inner solitude!

Proud at the thought of having tamed the mind
After simply pacifying a single thought or emotion,
And contemptuous of those who are preoccupied—
These are hooks of Māra for those in retreat.

Pay no heed, therefore, to others’ vices or virtues,
And inspire yourself with enthusiasm for Dharma,
For who is happier than the host of the event
At which the mind is seen to be mere illusion?

All the various thoughts are laid out like the features of a game
For the child-like power of awareness to play with non-attachment,
The old mothers of the six realms take their seats as compassion's focus,
And the offerings, sources of merit, are shared by dedication’s skilful hands.

All this talk of realising and seeing: it’s all so hollow!
Forget bliss and clarity: they’re just temporary highs!
Cultivate emptiness of which compassion is the essence,
And your own and others’ welfare is assured, it’s said.

Even a hundred years of exertion born of expectation for reward
Will only postpone the supreme accomplishment, we're told.
But on the path of the six pāramitās free from the seven attachments,[1]
Even without enlightenment in this lifetime, there'll be no regret!

First you met a supremely qualified guide,
Then you felt renunciation and joy for the Dharma,
And now you're meditating in woodland solitude.
O my fortunate friend, you're fortunate indeed!

I met noble masters, but failed to follow them properly.
Whatever Dharma I train in, I don’t apply it to my mind.
I took to solitude but couldn’t be diligent or undistracted.
Turning into an old dog like me means remaining malign!

My friend, you’ve set out on the way to every happiness,
But as you tirelessly cultivate diligence and devotion,
Be ever watchful, alert for the demon of arrogant pride,
And your life will end happily too—do you understand?

Not ruining the mind with false visions of deities or demons,
But furnishing it with the treasures of jewel-like qualities,
May you follow in the footsteps of the great Kadampa saints.
This is my prayer: Original Protector, please bear witness!

Even if wicked old Abu should die and descend to the lower realms,
There’ll come a time when he’s freed through the teacher’s kindness.
Then, I pray, may he continue to uphold supreme enlightened action
For as long as all beings, his very own mothers, still remain!

These sincere words, which arose like a rainbow from the mouth,[2]
Were offered from the mountain solitude of Dhichung by ragged Abu
In order to dispel the sadness of a dear, like-minded friend.
May their meaning become apparent!

| Translated by Adam Pearcey, 2014. Originally published on adamspearcey.com.

Bibliography

Tibetan Edition

o rgyan 'jigs med chos kyi dbang po. "phyi nang gi dben pa ya ma bral bar bsten tshul sogs 'ja' ba mdo sngags la gdams pa/" in gsung 'bum/_o rgyan 'jigs med chos kyi dbang po. BDRC W1PD107142. 8 vols. khreng tu'u: si khron dpe skrun tshogs pa/ si khron mi rigs dpe skrun khang, 2009, vol. 8: 209–215

Secondary Sources

Pearcey, Adam. Beyond the Ordinary Mind: Dzogchen, Rimé, and the Path of Perfect Wisdom. Boulder: Snow Lion, 2018.

Version 1.6-20250506

According to Ārya Asaṅga’s commentary on the Mahāyānasūtrālaṃkāra, where they are explained in connection with the pāramitā of generosity, the seven kinds of attachment (chags bdun) are: (1) attachment to possessions, (2) postponing the practice, (3) being satisfied with just a little practice, (4) expectation of something in return, (5) karmic results, (6) adverse circumstances, and (7) distractions. ↩
The reference to a rainbow here is likely a play on Japa Do-Ngak's name, the first syllable of which ('ja'), at least according to one of its several variant spellings, is identical to the word for rainbow. ↩

Advice for Alak Do-Ngak

Translator's Introduction

Bibliography

Advice for Alak Do-Ngak

Bibliography

Tibetan Edition

Secondary Sources

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