7 lessons from James Low
Photo: Huw Wyn
I was recently on retreat with the Dzogchen teacher James Low. It was a wonderful gathering of people from many different Sanghas and Buddhist traditions—some came from as far away as New York, Beijing, and Brazil. As I was going through my notes, I thought I’d share a few nuggets of the wisdom we were offered. These are all from memory—imperfect, of course—but perhaps enough to tempt you to explore more of James Low’s teachings.
Massage the Dharma into yourself like butter
The last blog post I wrote here was called Can Dharma study lead to insight? My view was that it can. So I was glad when James Low referred to what we were doing together as studying the Dharma.
In fact, what was happening was that he was talking to us about emptiness—actually, speaking from emptiness—for around six hours a day. He was massaging the Dharma into us like butter.
He used the analogy of massaging butter into a stiff leather bag to make it soft. You can place a ball of butter into the bag, but no matter how long you leave it there, the bag won’t soften. Proximity is not enough. It’s not enough to have a row of Dharma books on your shelves. You have to massage the Dharma into yourself.
It’s not that the view—that everything is empty of inherent existence—is complicated. It’s just very unusual. We’re not likely to come to that understanding on our own, because it’s so counterintuitive. That’s why we study the great teachers, who in turn studied their own great teachers.
Notice the all-at-once-ness of experience
Experience is always everything all at once. Look straight ahead—everything is there, all at once. Now look to the right: again, a new world appears, all at once. Then to the left—another world.
Experience, in which ourselves and our world co-emerge, appears and disappears. We want to knit the moments together in a linear chain, like knitting a jumper. But it's not like that, the moments don’t add up to anything. There is no whole.
Yet each moment is very precise, very clear—then gone.
In the experience of the here and now, nothing can be separated from anything else. It’s concepts that come in like scissors, cutting things up: me here, you there, tree outside. But the experience itself is seamless.
This is why the real meaning of non-duality is not just not two, but also not one.
Reality is a delusion
Reality is a delusion. There is no reality. Actuality is an illusion—everything is illusory, coming and going.
At the heart of the retreat was the relationship between the ground—emptiness—and everything that appears. Emptiness is called 'the ground' because it’s what everything springs from. Look out your window: everything you see, except the sky, was born from the ground. Emptiness is like that—the potential for everything is within it.
One of the aspects of the Dharma James Low massaged into us was the radical lack of hierarchy between emptiness and appearances. Everything exists in emptiness, but nothing exists inherently. It might seem like an either/or situation—either emptiness or appearances—but it's not. There's no opposition between them.
In the same way the immediacy of our experience and the tendency to conceptualisation are here at the same time. The narrative we weave and the actuality are there together. Just because something is impactful doesn’t mean it’s real. Reality is a delusion. But illusory things still have an effect.
Take the easy path
He recalled how, when faced with a dilemma, his teacher would say, “Take the easy path.” Why would we choose the hard one?
One thing I’m taking away from the retreat is the absolute nonviolence of the Dzogchen approach to practice. It doesn’t ask us to be heroic or to push through—but instead, to take the easy path.
Dzogchen means “great completion,” and it sees everything as already complete—perfect, if you like—just as it is. There’s no need to fix or correct anything, because nothing is lacking. This can feel so counter to our usual way of living, where everything always seems in need of improvement.
Sure, some things are hard. I’m in the middle of moving house, and all the emotions are turned up to high volume. I’m also tired, so my usual defences are down. But I don’t have to turn any of it into a problem—because it’s all self-resolving. I'm reminded of the Padmasambhava text, 'Self-Liberation Through Seeing with Naked Awareness', everything is simply seen, allowed to have it's little life and then liberates itself.
The mind is like a mirror, nothing touches it
A central image from the retreat was that of the mind as a mirror. James shared a wonderful analogy about going on a long car journey. By the time you arrive, you’ve used up most of the petrol, some of the oil, and worn down the tyres a little. You’re probably a bit tired yourself. But the wing mirror? It isn’t tired at all. It’s reflected everything you passed on the road—and yet, in another sense, nothing has touched it.
The mind is like that mirror. Like your wing mirror, it’s never empty—but it’s always empty, because nothing sticks. The mind is self-cleaning—or as Padmasambhava would say, self-liberating.
We often think of ourselves as a painting, going through life adding brushstrokes, building up layers. But really, we’re more like a mirror. And then James added: you could think of experience as a collage—just don’t glue it.
Practice a radical hospitality
Our mantra for the retreat was “receive and respond.” Something to practice all day, every day, in this big, transient community of people. Unlike many retreats, there was no silence—so a big part of the practice was being in communication with others. James's advice was: “Don’t start with yourself. Be open to the situation, be open to the other person. Take time to really receive before you respond.”
This receiving is another expression of radical nonviolence. So often, we want to control the situation or define the other person—but what is it like to sit back and truly receive? It’s a gift.
During the retreat, I happened to be reading Moral Ambition—a book by Rutger Bregman - calling us to be more ambitious in our desire to help others. He talks about preventing future pandemics, global disarmament, ending poverty. So, in the back of my mind, the question kept circling: How can I really help other people?
One answer that came back was: let people be just as they are. No judgement, no correction. Free them from the necessity of having to continually construct themselves. It's so stressful to have to be someone.
James said, “People make rules because they don’t want others to get lost.” I could relate to that, I'm a rule maker. But then he added, “Rule maker—are you lost?”
How would it be to let everyone find their own way?
Collapse the vertical axis
We persecute ourselves with the idea that things could be different—or better. This happens because the vertical axis is in place. We’re constantly placing things higher or lower on this axis of good and bad, assigning value, ranking everything.
But here, the instruction is to collapse the vertical axis into a horizontal one—where nothing is judged as better or worse. In fact, nothing is judged at all. We're so used to attributing value to everything. But how would it be to receive everything with an open mind instead?
It’s not that our preferences will completely fall away—we can still look for a sense of harmony in our lives. What fits? What doesn’t?
But we can hold that lightly, using the “for me” mantra. Instead of saying, “This is a nice place,” as if it’s universally true, we say, “This is a nice place—for me.”
This is the best kind of bread—for me.
But without judgement what happens to ethics? I started to see how morality is inherent in the non-dual approach. How can I place myself above you, if there’s no real separation between us?
Photo: Jane Marriner
