Dedication

The Bodhicaryavatara does not end with philosophy. It does not end with meditation instructions or debate victories or penetrating analysis. It ends with a prayer.

After everything — the praise of bodhicitta, the purification, the vow, the conscientiousness and vigilance, the patience and effort and concentration, the wisdom that sees through to the empty nature of all things — after all of this, what remains is the simplest and most essential act of all: giving it away.

The Tibetan bsngo ba means to transfer or direct. Dedication ensures that whatever merit has been generated — through composing this text, through studying it, through practicing it — is not consumed in personal good fortune but channeled toward the ultimate goal: the awakening of all beings.

There is a practical urgency to this. Merit that is not dedicated can be exhausted, the way a bank account can be spent down to nothing. A single moment of anger can destroy undedicated merit. But merit that is dedicated toward enlightenment is like a seed planted in deep soil — it continues to grow until it accomplishes its purpose.

Just as the deeds of all the Buddhas And the Bodhisattvas' aspirations too, May all my actions now bear fruit And perfectly fulfill the wishes of all beings.

The Scope of the Heart

What strikes readers about this chapter — what has struck them for twelve centuries — is the sheer scope of Shantideva's aspiration. He does not pray merely for his monastery, or for Buddhists, or even for humanity. He prays for beings in every realm of existence: those suffering in the hells from unbearable heat and cold, hungry ghosts tormented by craving they can never satisfy, animals caught in ignorance and exploitation, humans struggling through the full range of suffering, even gods who face eventual fall from their temporary bliss.

No one is left out. No category is excluded. The bodhisattva's compassion draws no lines.

And the prayers are not abstract. This is what makes them extraordinary. Shantideva does not offer comfortable generalizations about universal love. He enters imaginatively into specific forms of suffering:

May those who suffer freezing cold find warmth. And may those oppressed by heat be cooled By streams of water from the great clouds Of the bodhisattvas.

May the forests become places of delight for those in hell. May the trees of razor leaves burst forth in fruit and flower. And may the beings there experience the joys of paradise.

He has contemplated what beings actually experience — the specific torments, the particular pains — and he wishes each one relief from each particular suffering. This is not a man reciting a formula. This is a man whose heart has been broken open by what he has seen.

Prayers for the Teaching

A significant portion of the chapter prays for the flourishing of the Dharma:

May the Dharma endure for long, And may its light illuminate the world! May the holders of the teaching have long lives And may the Three Jewels be revered everywhere!

This is not sectarianism. It is the practical recognition that the Dharma is the means by which beings find liberation. For the teaching to help, it must survive. Teachers must live long enough to transmit it. Students must have the conditions necessary for practice. When Shantideva prays for the Dharma to flourish, he is praying for the tool that ends suffering to remain available.

In the Footsteps of the Great Ones

Shantideva expresses the wish to follow Manjushri — the bodhisattva of wisdom, whose insight penetrates to the nature of reality — and Samantabhadra — the bodhisattva whose aspirations and actions fill all of space and time:

Just as the bodhisattva Manjushri acts for the sake of beings, And Samantabhadra as well, To train myself I dedicate all my virtues Just as they have done.

By invoking these models, Shantideva aligns himself with the fullest expression of the bodhisattva ideal. He is not asking for something small. He is asking to become like the greatest beings who have ever walked this path.

The Personal Offering

Then comes a moment of quiet intimacy:

By the merit of composing this work And whatever virtues I have accumulated, May all beings everywhere Who suffer torment in their minds and bodies Find through my merits oceans of happiness and joy.

Remember how this text began. Shantideva said he had nothing new to offer, that he was writing for his own practice, to strengthen his own faith. He has maintained that stance throughout — the monk on the floor, not the master on the throne. And here at the end, he offers everything. The merit of composition, the merit of practice, every virtue he has ever accumulated — all of it, given away. This is what bodhicitta looks like when it reaches full maturity: there is nothing left to hold back.

Emptiness and the Gift

You might wonder: if Chapter 9 showed that there is no inherently existing self, who is making this dedication? And if beings are empty, to whom is it dedicated?

The answer lies in the two truths. On the ultimate level, there is no dedicator, no dedication, no recipient. On the conventional level, the practice of dedication functions perfectly — directing merit and expressing compassion. The bodhisattva operates on both levels at once.

And here is the remarkable thing: dedication made with understanding of emptiness is more powerful, not less. When you dedicate without fixation on "I am the one dedicating" or "this is my merit that I am giving away," the gift flows unobstructed. There is no self-congratulation to clog the channel. There is just giving, pure and complete.

As Long as Space Endures

The final verses bring the Bodhicaryavatara full circle — and they are among the most famous words in all of Buddhist literature:

As long as space endures, As long as there are beings to be found, May I continue likewise to remain To drive away the sorrows of the world.

No end date. No completion. No retirement. As long as space endures — which is to say, forever. As long as there are beings who suffer — which is to say, until every last one is free. This is the bodhisattva vow in its fullest, most uncompromising form.

All the sufferings of wandering beings— May they ripen wholly on myself. And may the virtues of the bodhisattvas Bring beings to complete happiness.

The entire text has been leading to this. Ten chapters of teaching, analysis, contemplation, and debate — all arriving at this expression of perfect love: take my suffering. Take my merit. Take everything I have. Let it ripen as your happiness.

These verses are chanted today at the conclusion of teachings, meditation sessions, and rituals across the Tibetan Buddhist world. Many practitioners memorize them. They become a kind of spiritual reflex — the natural response to any good deed is to give it away.

And with this, the Bodhicaryavatara is complete. A complete path — from the first flash of inspiration to the final offering of everything gained — traced by a monk who claimed to have nothing new to say and ended up composing one of the most beloved spiritual texts in human history. Countless practitioners over twelve centuries have followed this path. It remains as fresh and as urgent today as when Shantideva first opened his mouth on that high throne at Nalanda, and the monks who had come to mock him fell silent in astonishment.