The Preliminaries

"First, train in the preliminaries."

Before we can transform our hearts through the profound practices of mind training (lojong), we must prepare the ground. Just as a farmer must clear and till the soil before planting seeds, we must ready our minds through foundational contemplations. These preliminaries are not merely preparatory—they are essential practices that return us again and again to what matters most.

The preliminaries consist of three contemplations that gradually shift our perspective from the distractions of everyday concerns toward the deeper questions of existence. They ask us to consider: What is the value of this human life? How much time do we actually have? And what is the true nature of our ordinary experience?

These are not abstract philosophical exercises but intimate encounters with reality. They invite us to examine our assumptions about permanence, pleasure, and the self that drives our daily choices. Through honest reflection on these themes, we develop what the tradition calls renunciation—not a rejection of life, but a clear seeing that frees us from chasing shadows.

The Difficulty of Finding the Freedoms and Advantages

The first contemplation examines what the tradition calls the "precious human birth" (dal 'byor). This phrase refers not simply to being born human, but to having been born with the specific freedoms and advantages that make spiritual practice possible.

Consider the circumstances required for encountering and practicing the Dharma. We need to be born where teachings are available, with sufficient intelligence to understand them, without overwhelming physical or mental obstacles, and with some inclination toward virtue. We need teachers, texts, and communities of practice. We need basic material conditions met and enough leisure to contemplate deeper questions.

When we honestly assess how many conditions had to align for us to have access to these teachings, the rarity becomes apparent. Most beings throughout history have lived in times and places where such opportunities were unavailable. Even now, in an age of unprecedented access to information, how many people have the interest, time, and circumstances to engage seriously with mind training?

This reflection is not meant to make us feel special or chosen, but to cultivate appreciation for a remarkable opportunity. Just as finding a precious jewel on the beach would inspire us to use it wisely rather than lose it in the sand, recognizing the value of our situation motivates serious practice.

The contemplation deepens when we consider how easily these conditions can be lost. A serious illness, financial crisis, or political upheaval could remove our ability to practice. Age brings its own limitations. Our current interest and understanding cannot be taken for granted—they too are impermanent.

This appreciation naturally leads to a sense of urgency. If we truly understand how rare this opportunity is and how easily it can be lost, we will not want to waste it on pursuits that ultimately lead nowhere. We will want to extract the essence from this life while we can.

Death and Impermanence

The second contemplation faces directly what most of us spend enormous energy avoiding: the certainty of death and the uncertainty of when it will come. This is not a morbid preoccupation but a liberating recognition that can transform how we live.

Death is certain. Despite all our medical advances and safety measures, no one has found a way to avoid it permanently. Everyone who has ever lived has died or will die. This includes not only ourselves but everyone we love. No exception has ever been found to this natural law.

Yet while death is certain, its timing is completely unpredictable. We may have decades remaining or mere moments. Young, healthy people die suddenly. Old, sick people sometimes recover and live years longer than expected. We simply do not know when our time will end.

This uncertainty is actually a gift, though it rarely feels like one. If we knew exactly when we would die, we might either despair or procrastinate until the final weeks. Instead, the unknown timing of death invites us to live each day with awareness that it could be our last.

What would change if we truly internalized this truth? We might worry less about our reputation and more about our character. We might spend less time accumulating possessions and more time cultivating wisdom and compassion. We might forgive more quickly and love more openly.

The contemplation extends beyond our own mortality to the impermanence of everything we usually consider solid and reliable. Our relationships, our achievements, our problems, our bodies, our thoughts—all arise and pass away. Even our most intense emotions are temporary visitors that come and go.

This recognition need not lead to nihilism but to a profound shift in priorities. When we see that external accomplishments cannot provide lasting security or satisfaction, we naturally turn toward qualities of heart and mind that can accompany us through all transitions.

The Trials of Samsara

The third contemplation examines the nature of ordinary existence (samsara)—the cycle of conditioned experience driven by ignorance, craving, and aversion. This is not about becoming pessimistic but about seeing clearly what we are actually dealing with.

Even when we obtain what we want, satisfaction is temporary. The promotion we worked so hard for brings new stresses. The relationship we longed for brings new insecurities. The possession we desired breaks, goes out of style, or fails to fulfill its promise. We find ourselves constantly seeking the next thing that might finally provide lasting happiness.

Meanwhile, we expend enormous energy trying to avoid what we don't want—pain, criticism, failure, loss. Yet these experiences come anyway, often despite our best efforts to prevent them. And when they do come, our resistance usually makes them worse.

This pattern of craving and aversion keeps us perpetually unsettled. We are either pursuing something we lack or defending something we fear to lose. Even in moments of apparent success, we worry about how long it will last. Peace becomes impossible because we are always trying to arrange circumstances to match our preferences.

The suffering is not primarily in the circumstances themselves but in our relationship to them. Two people can face identical situations with vastly different levels of distress, depending on their expectations and reactions. This suggests that the solution lies not in perfecting our external conditions but in transforming our inner responses.

This contemplation reveals why the conventional approaches to happiness—getting what we want and avoiding what we don't want—are ultimately futile. Not because pleasant experiences are inherently bad, but because they cannot provide the stable satisfaction we seek from them.

Recognizing this truth can initially feel devastating. If our usual strategies for happiness don't work, what hope do we have? But this "hopelessness" about samsaric solutions actually opens the door to genuine hope. When we stop expecting lasting fulfillment from impermanent things, we can begin to explore what might actually bring peace.

Integrating the Contemplations

These three contemplations work together to prepare the mind for bodhicitta training. The first creates appreciation for our opportunity to practice. The second generates urgency by highlighting the uncertainty of time. The third shows why practice is necessary by revealing the inadequacy of our usual approaches to happiness.

Together, they cultivate what the tradition calls renunciation—a word often misunderstood in Western contexts. Renunciation does not mean rejecting pleasure or beauty or relationships. Rather, it means relinquishing our neurotic relationship to these experiences—the desperate seeking, the anxious clinging, the fearful avoiding that keeps us trapped in cycles of dissatisfaction.

When we clearly see that external conditions cannot provide ultimate security or happiness, we naturally turn toward the cultivation of inner qualities that can remain stable regardless of circumstances. This shift from outer to inner development is the essential preparation for training in love and compassion.

The preliminaries also connect us with our shared human condition. Everyone faces aging, sickness, death, and the basic dissatisfactions of conditioned existence. This recognition can soften our sense of being uniquely burdened or specially entitled. We begin to see that we are all in the same boat, trying to find happiness and avoid suffering with limited success.

This understanding naturally generates compassion. When we recognize our own vulnerability and the futility of our attempts to create lasting security, we can extend the same recognition to others. Their seemingly selfish or harmful behaviors begin to look more like confused attempts to find happiness and avoid pain—attempts we can relate to because we make them ourselves.

Practical Application

These contemplations are most effective when engaged regularly and personally. Rather than thinking about death and impermanence in general, we might reflect on the actual people in our lives who have died and consider how their death affected us. Rather than considering suffering abstractly, we might examine specific areas where we feel perpetually unsatisfied despite getting what we wanted.

The goal is not to become depressed or detached but to develop realistic expectations and appropriate priorities. When we stop expecting lasting happiness from impermanent sources, we can enjoy pleasant experiences more fully while they last and face unpleasant ones with greater equanimity.

Traditional practitioners often begin each meditation session by briefly reviewing these themes. This practice helps counteract the mind's tendency to slip back into unconscious assumptions about permanence and the reliability of external conditions for happiness.

The preliminaries also serve as a refuge during difficult periods. When facing illness, loss, or disappointment, returning to these contemplations can provide perspective. They remind us that such experiences are not aberrations but natural parts of existence that everyone faces. This recognition can reduce the additional suffering we create through resistance and self-pity.

As we become more familiar with these themes, they begin to inform our daily choices naturally. We might find ourselves less driven to impress others, more willing to forgive, more generous with our time and attention. The frantic quality that characterizes much of modern life begins to settle as we align our activities with what truly matters.

These foundational contemplations prepare us for the deeper practices of mind training by establishing proper motivation and realistic expectations. They help us understand why we need to train our minds and what we hope to accomplish through such training. With this foundation in place, we can approach the cultivation of bodhicitta with the seriousness and commitment it deserves.