Part 6: "If one were to make a pile of the heads of those whom one has killed in one's successive lives, it would far exceed the height of mountains. If one were to collect the drops of tears that one has shed for the loss of relatives and friends in the past, it would far exceed the vastness of oceans." -- H.H. Tenzin Gyatso, the fourteenth Dalai Lama Tsong Khapa contemplated that anguished query with respectful dignity. With a comforting hint of a smile, he nodded in understanding. "I appreciate your concerns, but the Bhagavan taught us that there is no negative karma which cannot be purified. Killing a parent, an arhat, causing a Buddha's blood to be maliciously shed, or causing a schism in the community of followers -- even these most heinous actions can be purified with the proper antidotes." "I sincerely doubt that there are sufficient antidotes to purify the weight of my sins." Methos lingered in the monk's serene gaze, then lowered his sight to his own hands. Although Tsong Khapa had apparently wiped most of the dirt from them while he was unconscious, Methos doubted anything could ever wash the now invisible stain of centuries of senseless bloodshed from his flesh, let alone his soul. "I didn't kill dozens, or even hundreds. I killed *thousands*, without regret, without remorse. Without good reason. How can you hope to overcome that in one lifetime -- even one as long as mine?" Without missing a beat, Tsong Khapa answered the Immortal with a question of his own. "Do you know the history of my people? Before they embraced the path, we were barbarians, savages. My ancestors were the most feared warriors of their time. They conquered lands in all four directions -- without mercy. They painted their faces the color of blood to terrify their enemies." "I suspect it was most effective." "Their reputation, alone, terrified most of their victims." Methos could understand that, all too well. Closing his eyes, he wrung his hands together and simply nodded in silent response. "You still believe your sins too voluminous to purify? King Ashoka and his army killed over one hundred thousand people in a single battle. Afterwards, he was so moved by the weeping of widows and orphans that he repented and embraced the path. He purified much of his negative karma during his life." Sorrow evident in his hushed voice, Methos interjected, "Much, but not all." Tsong Khapa was not moved from his certainty of belief. "Have you heard of Milarepa, the great teacher? He was a mass-murderer, a student of black magic. He repented and became a disciple of Marpa. Due to his extraordinary effort, he attained enlightenment in that same lifetime." Remaining silent, Methos clearly considered what the monk had said. In a whisper, he hopefully asked, "How does one even begin to atone for taking so many lives?" "One begins by taking refuge, in the Buddhas, the dharma, and the sangha. This accumulates good karma and prevents rebirth in the lower realms." Tsong Khapa pointed toward the painting of Dharmaraja. "Once you go for refuge, all the protectors of dharma become your protectors." Lowering his arm, he again pressed his palms together in reverence in front of his heart. "It is then your task to ever be mindful and not accumulate more negative karma. If we notice nonvirtuous action is about to occur, we should try and stop it. The Blessed One said, 'If a man has mistakenly committed an evil deed, let him not repeat it. Let him not be addicted to evil, for it is the amassing of evil that brings misery'." The monk paused, allowed his left hand to fall to his lap, and admonished Methos further. "Remember that we can create negative karma by our own actions, or causing others to take part in nonvirtuous actions, or even by rejoicing in the nonvirtuous actions of others. All must be avoided." Rather than be comforted by these sage words, Methos appeared agitated. "What good is avoiding more negative karma, if I still have an accumulated mountain of it higher than your country's southern peaks?" Calmly, resolutely, the monk pressed his still raised right hand up to his lips. He chose his words carefully. "What good is teaching you how to purify the negative karma you have accumulated if you are just going to accumulate more through your ignorance?" Seeing that Methos had no immediate retort, Tsong Khapa joined his hands together in a meditative position in his lap and continued. "To eliminate black karmic debts, we should first openly admit our past wrongs, and apply the four opponent powers of regretting them, promising never to commit them again, invoking the three jewels of Buddhas, dharma, and sangha, then, finally, amassing as much counteracting virtue as we can." "And I repeat, how can one possibly amass sufficient virtue in one lifetime?" A smile suspiciously bordering on a smirk painted across the monk's face. "Ask Milarepa." "I'm not Milarepa," Methos flatly volleyed back. "Perhaps not, but does that mean you should not even try?" Once again, Tsong Khapa waited in silence for a response from the Immortal which never came. Satisfied that his point had been taken, he finally continued with his teachings. "Proper motivation is the key. Your regret must be sincere. You must feel compassion for your past victims, and those around you who are in pain, in need." Methos nodded. "I do. Believe me, I do." "Then you have already begun to train your mind in the correct way. Once you have achieved compassion for all sentient beings, then you will be truly on the path. In the meanwhile, you should work to purify your negative karma. You can do prostrations, mandala offerings, repeated recitations of the mantra of Vajrasattva or your own personal guru. The Confession of the Thirty Five Buddhas is the highest of all ways of purifying accumulated karmic debt. It is said, 'Lighting a butter lamp in a dark gloom entirely clears away the darkness; likewise, the darkness of sins accumulated for a thousand lifetimes is quickly dispelled by the butter lamp of recitation'." Methos carefully pondered these words for a few silent minutes. "There was one other who appeared to me -- appeared *as* me," he slowly explained. "I know I've seen him before, in a painting, but I don't know his name." "Describe him to me." "He... *I* was the blue of lapis lazuli. Not just his skin, but his energy, his aura. He had a bowl of nectar in his lap. I saw that very clearly." The Tibetan bowed and raised his palm-pressed hands to the crown of his head in reverent prayer. He recited a breathy mantra, then lowered his hands to his lap and smiled at Methos. "He of the Lapis Lazuli light, the Great Healer, Bhaishajya -- the Medicine Buddha." Naturally finding uneasy humor, Methos joked, "Does this mean that I am sick?" "We are *all* sick -- we are all prisoners of our afflictions, to varying degrees. Many people are not conscious of their sickness. It is impossible to accept the cure of the path unless one first acknowledges their inherent sickness." "I freely admit to being sick," replied an agitated Methos. "Sick of seeing the faces of dead children in my dreams. Sick of finding senseless violence wherever I travel. Have we not changed over the course of time? Have we learned nothing? Have *I* not changed?" "Admitting your sickness is merely the first step. You must then seek out a qualified teacher, one who will become as your doctor. The wise words he gives to you are the most effective medicine possible; but, as with any medicine, you, the patient, must take the medicine diligently, correctly." Gone was the Immortal's false humor and too real anxiety, replaced by a glimmer of hope. "What is this medicine?" "Compassion, and wisdom." Tsong Khapa smiled calmly at the Immortal. "The compassion directed at all living sentient beings." Leaning forward, he reached out a hand and laid its palm flat against Methos' chest. "Beginning with yourself." His smile not fading, the monk withdrew his hand and leaned back. "Just as you seek happiness and wish to avoid suffering, so do all sentient beings. There is no difference between you and them. Both your friend and your enemy are equally deserving. Since one has lived lifetimes innumerable, there are no sentient beings who have not been one's friend hundreds of times. Therefore, one should think, 'Whom should I value? Whom should I hate?' We are alike -- all human beings. We all have the same potential for good as for evil. You have already recognized your potential for evil -- it is time you actualized your potential for good." "How should I do that? More prostrations. "More turns of the mala? Remain in this cave, with you, until I reach enlightenment?"