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We’ve reached the last in our series of episodes this year on Buddhism’s six perfections. The final perfection is described as emptiness, wisdom, or insight. These are all ways of naming the indescribable experience of discovering ourselves to be utterly interconnected with all of life, the universe, and everything.

My guest for this profound, but sometimes difficult-to-grasp subject is Geshe Sherab. For those unfamiliar with the title Geshe, it refers to those who have completed a 20-year course of study in Tibetan Buddhism, becoming highly qualified teachers and scholars. The Dalai Lama himself is a geshe.

In my conversation with Geshe Sherab, he shares how emptiness is not just a philosophical idea, but a practical antidote to anguish, craving, loneliness, and many of life’s difficulties. He also shares personal stories—including the loneliness of leaving his culture to share Buddhism with contemporary Westerners like me, and many of you who listen to this podcast.

I think you’ll enjoy this conversation as much as I did.

Scott Snibbe: Geshe Sherab, it’s a pleasure to have you on How to Train a Happy Mind. I’ve had the privilege of attending your teachings on Zoom and in person, and I’ve been so impressed with your humility and wisdom. Thank you for joining me today.

Geshe Sherab: Thank you very much for having me here.

Geshe Sherab’s life story

Scott Snibbe: The first time I attended your teachings on Zoom, I noticed that you and I are probably close to the same age. I couldn’t help comparing our lives—how differently we’ve lived the same timeframe, from the late sixties through the eighties.

Could you start by talking about your life? How you grew up, became a monk and a geshe, and how you came to America?

Geshe Sherab: I was born in the western part of Nepal, in the mountain region called Manang, in a small Buddhist village. We are five boys, and I’m the second oldest. In our area, as in many Himalayan regions, there’s a tradition for families to send one child to the monastery. My mother thought I should stay home, but my father thought I should be the one to go.

I studied in a monastery there for 10 years before moving to Sera Jey Monastery for further study toward my Geshe degree. I studied 14 more years at Sera, graduated as a geshe, and then went to Gyumed Tantric College for one year.

Scott Snibbe: When people hear “Tantric College,” it sounds exciting. What actually happens there?

Geshe Sherab: Not so exciting for us. Normally, monks learn rituals individually, on their own. But at Tantric College it becomes part of the curriculum. You study the tantric path, debate tantric topics with other geshes, attend many pujas and rituals, and learn skills like drawing mandalas. If you’re personally interested, you can study more deeply, but everyone learns at least the basics.

Scott Snibbe: Did you want to come to America, or were you sent?

Geshe Sherab: I was sent. After finishing my studies, I returned to Sera and was doing a short retreat. The international office sent a request to Lama Zopa Rinpoche for a teacher to guide a small study group in Santa Fe and Taos. That’s how I ended up in Taos in 2001. I had never heard of Taos before, nor of New Mexico.

Scott Snibbe: Leaving your culture, language, monastery, family, and friends—did you ever feel lonely and miss your homeland?

Geshe Sherab: Yes, of course. Since I was eight, most of my life had been in the monastery, and even with my biological family, I didn’t spend much time. So being far away, by myself, I did sometimes feel lonely and miss home.

Scott Snibbe: How did you deal with those feelings, given your Buddhist training?

Geshe Sherab: You cannot have everything you want, no matter where you are. Every place has positive and negative sides. If you focus only on what you don’t have, you feel lonely, miserable, and unhappy. But if you focus on what you do have, it helps.

Every place has positive and negative sides. If you focus only on what you don’t have, you feel lonely, miserable, and unhappy. But if you focus on what you do have, it helps.

For example, in Taos or Santa Fe, compared to Kathmandu, there’s less pollution, clean air, nice places to walk, and more free time. In the monastery, you’re always surrounded by people—when you step out of your room, you meet someone, start talking, then meet someone else. It can be hard to have time for yourself. Here I’ve had more space for my own practices.

Also, living here helps me understand people from different cultures—their minds, how upbringing and culture shape them. People here ask more questions, which I enjoy, even if I don’t always have the answer. Their questions make me reflect from perspectives I hadn’t considered before.

Scott Snibbe: I realize that for us in centers like The Buddhist Center in Santa Fe, we now get an education that was once only available in monasteries. I’m grateful for the way you and other teachers share so openly.

Geshe Sherab: Thank you. When I teach, I also learn, so it helps me as well.

When I teach, I also learn.

What is emptiness?

Scott Snibbe: We’re here to talk about emptiness. This year we’ve done a series on the six perfections, and now we’ve come to the last: the perfection of wisdom, or emptiness. Sometimes people use other words, like interdependence. His Holiness even says “fullness.”

Can you start by explaining what emptiness means, and what’s the right word for it?

Geshe Sherab: In Tibetan it’s stong-pa nyid. Stong-pa means empty, but when you add nyid, it can mean nothingness. But when we talk about emptiness, we’re not talking about nothingness. We’re talking about the subtle nature of things—that they are empty of inherent existence.

When we talk about emptiness, we’re not talking about nothingness. We’re talking about the subtle nature of things—that they are empty of inherent existence.

Scott Snibbe: For people who haven’t heard that before, what does “empty of inherent existence” mean?

Geshe Sherab: Inherent existence means something that exists entirely on its own, without depending on causes, conditions, or other factors. Something that functions by itself, independently.

Inherent existence means something that exists entirely on its own, without depending on causes, conditions, or other factors.

Scott Snibbe: And the opposite—thinking that things are separate, solid, independent—that’s ignorance. Why is it harmful not to see through the lens of emptiness?

Geshe Sherab: We all know how much we suffer when we’re upset, frustrated, impatient, angry, resentful. We know how painful it is to feel jealousy or desire, especially when we can’t get what we crave. If we look at where those painful emotions come from, they arise from what I call “fabricating thoughts”—the mind that paints or interprets things as pleasant or unpleasant, beneficial or harmful, meaningful or meaningless. These fabrications rest on the assumption that there is an object existing solidly from its own side.

But if we realize there’s no such independent object, then there’s nothing to fabricate as good or bad, pleasant or unpleasant. Without that fabrication, there’s no basis for attachment or anger to arise.

If we realize there’s no such independent object, then there’s nothing to fabricate as good or bad, pleasant or unpleasant.

Scott Snibbe: Someone might say, “But what do you mean I’m fabricating good and bad? This thing really hurt me. That thing really felt good.” How do you respond?

Geshe Sherab: Objects themselves are neither good nor bad. The same object can be pleasant to one person and unpleasant to another, attractive to one and unattractive to another. From the object’s side, there’s nothing inherently beautiful or ugly. It depends on how each person perceives and interacts with it. That’s fabrication.

From the object’s side, there’s nothing inherently beautiful or ugly. It depends on how each person perceives and interacts with it.

Scott Snibbe: Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.

Geshe Sherab: Exactly, but our mind believes beauty is in the object itself, not in the mind. That’s where problems begin.

Scott Snibbe: Thinking that something external is solidly good or bad—when actually it’s much more about our mind, conditioning, and experiences—that’s the delusion.

Geshe Sherab: Absolutely, our perception is conditioned by our upbringing, culture, past experiences—all of these influence whether we see something as pleasant or unpleasant.

Emptiness in personal experience

Scott Snibbe: Can you recall a time in your life when emptiness helped you through something difficult?

Geshe Sherab: There were times I felt fear or worry. In those moments, I also felt a very strong sense of “I.” But when I meditated—analyzed who this “I” was—I came to a point where I experienced that “I” as empty of inherent existence. When I could reach that point, I was able to let go of the fear and worry. It didn’t go away completely, because I don’t yet have realization of emptiness, but in that moment it dissolved. What it showed me is that if I could maintain awareness of emptiness all the time, then fear and worry would have no space to arise—because in that state, there’s no one to experience them.

What it showed me is that if I could maintain awareness of emptiness all the time, then fear and worry would have no space to arise—because in that state, there’s no one to experience them.

Scott Snibbe: So when you feel strong anger, craving, fear, or anxiety—you look for that “self” who’s experiencing it?

Geshe Sherab: Yes. Who is experiencing this anger, this fear? When you search, you don’t find anyone. And if you don’t find anyone, then who is suffering from these emotions?

Scott Snibbe: But then how do we still function? If we don’t find Geshe Sherab, how is Geshe Sherab still teaching, laughing, having this conversation?

Geshe Sherab: There are two kinds of analysis: conventional and ultimate. Conventional analysis asks: is Geshe-la hungry or not? Busy or not? Feeling well or not? This is surface-level, and it works for daily life. Ultimate analysis asks: who actually is this “Geshe Sherab”? When we analyze deeply, we can’t find a solid, inherent self within the aggregates (body, feelings, mind, and so on) or outside them. And yet, here we are talking. That’s because “Geshe Sherab” is merely imputed—labeled—on the basis of these aggregates coming together and functioning in a certain way.

Scott Snibbe: When you say “merely imputed,” you mean we place a label on this collection of changing, dynamic parts. Could you explain that?

Geshe Sherab: Imputation means giving a label. When someone invents a new object—say an iPhone—all its parts come together and function. Before labeling, no one knows what it is. Once labeled “iPhone,” everyone can understand and communicate about it. In the same way, “Geshe Sherab” is a label applied to this collection of body and mind, functioning together.

Scott Snibbe: That’s a great analogy. Like the invention of the bicycle—200 years ago it didn’t exist. Someone put wheels on a frame, and then we labeled it “bicycle.” Before that, the word didn’t mean anything. So in the same way, “Scott Snibbe” and “Geshe Sherab” are also inventions—labels our parents placed on us.

Geshe Sherab: Exactly. We were invented by our parents.

Scott Snibbe: I once told my daughter Samaya, “You’re not a Samaya.” She was shocked. I explained, “It’s just a sound we chose when you were born. We decided that sound would refer to you, but you’re not really that sound.”

Geshe Sherab: How did she respond?

Scott Snibbe: She loved it—her mind was blown. I think she has some understanding of this already, because she often talks about herself in the third person: “Samaya wants to go to the store.” It’s actually very helpful to refer to yourself that way.

The different Buddhist schools on emptiness

Scott Snibbe: Something that surprised me in studying emptiness is that Buddhism has many different ways of understanding it, reflecting how the teachings evolved over thousands of years. In the earlier schools, reality is found in particles, in atoms—like Newton or Einstein described. Another school emphasizes function, as you mentioned. Another says everything is only in the mind. And then the Middle Way school, which you’ve been describing, doesn’t find anything solid at all.

Can you talk about these schools of thought? Why are there different ways of understanding emptiness? And is one more correct than the others?

Geshe Sherab: It’s not about right or wrong. Each school offers a different level of understanding selflessness. Even if they don’t always use the word “emptiness,” all the schools accept the idea of selflessness. The differences are in subtlety. The earlier schools, Vaibhāṣika and Sautrāntika, describe a more gross level of selflessness. The later schools—Mind-Only and Middle Way—describe more subtle levels.

And it’s the same with ignorance. There are gross, subtle, and very subtle levels of ignorance. A coarse understanding of selflessness can counteract coarse ignorance, but only a subtler understanding can overcome subtler ignorance.

Scott Snibbe: And what about the Mind-Only school? Is everything just in our mind?

Geshe Sherab: Sometimes it’s easy to let go of external objects and say, “There is no outside; everything is mind.” That can reduce attachment to external things. But the problem is that Mind-Only thinkers still believe the mind itself exists inherently. They let go of grasping at objects, but not of grasping at the mind. So the Middle Way goes further: not only are external objects empty of inherent existence, the mind itself is also empty. This is why it’s the most subtle view—because it negates inherent existence both outside and inside.

The problem is that Mind-Only thinkers still believe the mind itself exists inherently. They let go of grasping at objects, but not of grasping at the mind.

Practical applications of emptiness

Scott Snibbe: Even if we accept emptiness, it’s easy to feel like our mind is still something solid and separate. How can we use the understanding of emptiness in our daily lives—against fear, craving, anxiety, conflict?

Geshe Sherab: You can apply the same analysis we spoke about before. For example: If you feel fear or worry, ask: Who is the “I” experiencing this fear? If you feel anger, ask: Who is this “I” that is so angry? Or with attachment, analyze the object itself: What is this thing I’m so attached to? When you analyze, you find no solid “I” and no inherently existing object. And that lessens the emotion’s power.

Scott Snibbe: You don’t just apply the search to yourself, but also to the object of desire or anger.

Geshe Sherab: Exactly. Apply it to both sides.

Scott Snibbe: What about the big problems of the world—war, politics, the climate crisis? Can emptiness help us with those?

Geshe Sherab: If you realize emptiness, you won’t create such problems yourself. But you can’t automatically stop others from creating them. You may inspire them, but you can’t control them. What emptiness does is it keeps you from being so negatively affected by these problems. You can remain calm, peaceful, not bitter or angry. You don’t add more suffering for yourself or others.

The subtlety and difficulties of understanding emptiness

Scott Snibbe: What questions are you still asking yourself about emptiness?

Geshe Sherab: When we do the traditional analysis—like the sevenfold reasoning with the chariot—we examine: is the chariot in its parts, outside its parts, and so on. One question I still struggle with is: what about the collection of parts functioning together? You can put all the parts of a car together, and it functions as a car. Why isn’t that the car itself?

This is more technical, and subtle. The scriptures explain the distinction between the basis of imputation—the parts and their function—and the imputed object, the car. They are not the same. But it’s a subtle point, and it can be hard to let go of the grasping completely.

Scott Snibbe: Yes, I’ve heard Lama Zopa Rinpoche say that emptiness is so subtle it’s almost like things don’t exist.

Geshe Sherab: Yes, he would say: “It exists, but it doesn’t exist. It doesn’t exist, but it exists.” The line between existing and not existing is so fine, it’s hard to distinguish. That’s why understanding emptiness is so difficult—because it’s so subtle.

The line between existing and not existing is so fine, it’s hard to distinguish. That’s why understanding emptiness is so difficult—because it’s so subtle.

Scott Snibbe: That’s why it’s useful to start with simpler levels of understanding—like impermanence.

Geshe Sherab: Yes, the different schools are like steps. Each level of understanding supports the next, leading you deeper into the realization of selflessness.

Scott Snibbe: Geshe-la, thank you so much for talking to us about emptiness with such clarity, honesty, and humor. I really appreciate your time and wisdom.

Geshe Sherab: Thank you. It’s my pleasure.

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