Years ago, on a trip to France, I spent the night in a stone tower that had been part of a medieval fortress. Though it was deep in the quiet of a forest, I found myself unable to sleep. After opening the door to the tower, my host showed me its special features: narrow chinks in the thick walls through which to shoot poisoned arrows and to pour boiling oil. As I lay there in the dark, I could feel an ancient fear pulsing in the air around me. And from below, I could almost hear the deafening sound of soldiers clanking in metal armor, as their terrified horses reared, whinnied, and stomped their hooves.
Usually, we think of a fortress in just this way: as an edifice designed for protection against an external enemy. But during an online retreat at the start of this new year, the Tibetan teacher Anam Thubten offered a very different perspective. He began by acknowledging the impact of political discord and environmental upheaval in the world around us. But then he reminded us of the ways that we can fortify ourselves against the winds of fear, anxiety, anger, and distraction that can so easily disrupt our own peace of mind. Two days after the retreat, the ferocious Santa Ana winds brought devastation to the City of Los Angeles—and his teaching on staying strong and steady within as danger swirls around us seemed all the more like just the medicine we need for this time, on this earth.
At a time of upheaval, people are naturally curious about what lies in store for them, not just in their personal lives but in their country, and even the whole world. From ancient times, people have turned to oracles for answers—and lately it seems that many people, perhaps without fully realizing it, have become channels for one particular Greek prophet. Her name is Cassandra, and she had a gift for predicting catastrophes—a gift that many of us now claim for ourselves. Because some of our predictions have already come true, our collective ego takes this as cogent evidence that we are pretty infallible in predicting a bleak future. This expectation of bleakness becomes a pessimistic lens through which we see the world, creating intense feelings of anxiety, insecurity, hopelessness. We become blind to the fact that there are also many good things that are happening and that are on their way to us, in our own lives and in the wider world.
While resisting the impulse to channel Cassandra, we can be sure of one thing: Things are going to be very wild! This may be difficult news to digest, because some people are still reeling from the political drama and social chaos of recent years. I’m not a prophet, but we may experience emotional turmoil, not just in our own being but in the collective society as well. Maybe this is part of evolution, just a growing pain, an “awakening” pain. It would be nice if we found ourselves in an era of peace a few years from now and were able to say, “We went through that wild era, the pain of awakening, and now it’s all over!”
But there is one good predictor that the road ahead will not be smooth for a while. This is the reality of many disrupting forces, such as climate change, which seems to be more and more out of control each year. The massive destruction caused by floods, hurricanes, and fires has become daily news—to the extent that we may become numb to what is happening all around us. Yet it cannot be denied. In the back of our minds, there is an unstoppable voice reminding us that this destructive force of a man-made cataclysm is on the way.
Though people and countries with power and wealth may create the illusion that they will fare well, this illusion can be defended for only so long. Sooner or later, the climate’s wrath will affect the lives of everyone. The fires that swept through Los Angeles a few months ago are a testimony to this, when we see that even celebrities with multimillion-dollar homes are vulnerable. From one moment to the next, a god’s palace turns to ash. Such disasters are a stark reminder that climate change is real, and we must also admit that it is man-made. One piece of good news is that, because it is man-made, we may be able to reverse it—not just for ourselves but for all the species who share our beautiful planet.
There is another powerful force of chaos in the world, fueled by certain huge technological advances. The past twenty or so years have given the world’s population almost universal access to information and social media. This can have benevolent effects, helping people to be more informed and less isolated. But it can also be a force of negativity. In today’s world, everyone can have a platform from which to spread a constant, toxic stream of negativity, hatred, conspiracy theories, criticism, and division. And so, despite the good things that come to us through technological innovations—new medicines, higher living standards, greater comfort, and sometimes even more egalitarian societies—it seems that overall, there is a feeling of disruption. As a result, we can easily fall prey to all sorts of internal disturbance: fear, confusion, pessimism, cynicism, anxiety, loneliness, and the impulse to lash out in anger.
When we guard our minds through the practice of mindful-vigilance, then again and again we can redirect our attention to the inherent goodness of each moment.
For all these reasons, this is a time for people to seek refuge in something more enlightened than political movements or ideologies; it is a time to take refuge in the sacred fortifications within. This idea has a long history within the Tibetan Buddhist tradition. Choje Jigme Phuntsok, one of the most influential teachers of the 20th century, said that if we take refuge in sacred fortifications, we won’t become victims of the army of Mara, the demon who represents the negative forces within us that obstruct the path to enlightenment. He taught that there were three sacred fortresses: the outer, the inner, and the secret. In the following verse, we can find his powerful advice about how we should prepare for this year, and even beyond:
Take refuge in the outer fortification, the land of the Three Jewels;
Rely on the inner fortification, the citadel of mindful-vigilance;
Meditate on the secret fortification, the armor of unobstructed awareness-emptiness.
When these three fortresses are combined, the army of Mara will not be able to harm you.
The idea of a fortress appears quite often in the ancient traditional Tibetan Buddhist teachings. It is often employed as a metaphor for awareness. It means that we are fortifying our mind and heart from the army of Mara, which is another name for our ego and the wild things that can erupt in our consciousness. The word “fortify” can sound very dramatic, but it basically means to protect or shield ourselves from our own anger, fear, confusion, and from the collective craziness, which can easily spread like some kind of klesha virus through social media.
If we take this advice to fortify ourselves and actually live it, then we can find peace in this troubled time. But how do we do this?

To take refuge in the outer fortress is to have a sacred model, a North Star, that we can follow while navigating the storms of life. One way is to take refuge in the three jewels: Buddha, dharma, and sangha. It gives us a compass that we can use whenever we feel that we are challenged and losing our equilibrium. We can ask, “What would Buddha do?” and this simple inquiry alone can help us to remain cool, compassionate, and nonreactive. In this way, we can meet all situations with dignity, calmness, and a big heart. Without it, we can be thrown off-balance at any moment.
Recently, in the midst of a two-day New Year’s retreat, a friend of mine, a well-seasoned meditator, let me know that she had just received a text message from her son that, in her words, “triggered all her neuroses.” But, having just heard the teaching on the outer fortress, she paused and asked herself the question, “What would Buddha do?” This immediately stopped her from being carried away by her painful thoughts and emotions. Within moments, she had calmed down, and she knew how to deal with the situation from a kinder, more compassionate place. This is a very alive example of how we can fortify our mind by relying on the three jewels.
The second sacred fortress, the inner fortress, is mindful-vigilance. This is a powerful practice that is actually a form of remembrance, or mindful awareness, and it requires a certain level of commitment. It involves watching what is happening in the mind—not only during formal meditation, when it is relatively easy to maintain awareness, but all the time. We can begin the day with the intention to fortify and protect our heart and mind from the army of Mara. Imagine that, when we wake up in the morning, instead of grabbing our cell phones, reading the news, or getting lost in the compulsive chatter of our own minds, we pause for a moment and hold the intention to practice mindful-vigilance.
In that moment, we begin to live consciously, rather than falling back into the default mode of our mind, which is unawareness. Even though our experiences might not instantly become lofty and spiritual, we have made the conscious choice not to feed our negative thoughts and emotions. We have accepted the invitation to maintain a continuous awareness. Then, throughout the day, we can silently ask ourselves, “What is the state of my mind right now?”
Eventually, if we keep returning to this question, we can be free of our habitual tendencies. When a negative thought arises, we can witness it, not identify with it, and if that doesn’t work to release it, we can intentionally direct our attention to something else. Even something very ordinary can bring ease to our heart. We can pay attention to the sensations in our own bodies, to the tingling in our toes or the coolness of the tips of our fingers. We can notice the beauty of nature: the colorful flowers, the gentle light of the sun, the drifting movement of the clouds. There are so many things to appreciate! The simple delights in our humble homes: the smell of early-morning coffee, the softness of sitting on the sofa, the texture of the paint on the wall. . . . When we guard our minds through the practice of mindful-vigilance, then again and again we can redirect our attention to the inherent goodness of each moment.
When we take refuge in the third sacred fortress, the secret fortress, we meditate on what is called awareness-emptiness, or rigpa, in the Dzogchen tradition. It is the purest nature of our own mind, beyond our habitual thoughts and experiences. Often it seems that the thinking mind, which is run by ego, is the totality of consciousness. But something much deeper lies within us. This is the unconditioned, primordial state of our mind, totally untouched by ego. Whenever we are able to drop into it, we experience true transcendence. Then there is no more separation between self and other, and all our stories of right and wrong, success and failure, vanish.
This discovery doesn’t require any secret potions, medicines, or spiritual tricks. Sometimes just sitting in silence, enjoying our senses, not following our thoughts, can lead us directly to the state of mind in which we see the liberating, true nature of reality. Then we can say, “Oh, this is what they call rigpa!” This is the true sanctuary, the true refuge. If only we are open to it, the experience of transcendence is much closer to us than we think, because human beings are naturally spiritual.
Even with so many people channeling Cassandra’s pessimistic visions, we should not let ourselves be defeated by hopelessness and cynicism. Instead, we can be more empowered than ever, knowing that we can welcome whatever comes to us with dignity and equanimity. We know where the sacred fortress is situated, and through this we can find meaning and magic in our everyday life. We can trust that we have a greater role than ever to play in the world around us. When we take refuge in the sacred fortifications, we can be a source of goodness, peace, and healing for all beings.

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