Many of the teachings of the Nyingma (“Ancient”) school of Tibetan Buddhism come from what are called terma. Terma means “treasure” and refers to hidden teachings that are discovered and revealed by a lama or “terton” (treasure revealer) when the time is right for these teachings to appear.

It is said that when Buddhism was brought to Tibet by the great Indian sage Padmasambhava in the year 774, he gave all the teachings he possibly could to this passel of wild men and women. But it represented only a small percentage of what he wished to convey to them, so instead of blowing their minds out of all proportion by forcing wisdom before its time, he and his main students hid teachings to be discovered in the future, when the time was ripe. Which was a brilliant plan.

Where did he hide these teachings? They say that he hid them in one of two places. The first was in the natural world. There are stories of tertons crossing a mountain pass in Tibet and suddenly stopping, looking left, looking right, and then walking over to a rock, cracking it open, and extracting a teaching. Terma could be hidden in tree branches, streams, the sky, or secreted in an herb.

Maybe this is true. And/or maybe it’s a way of saying that to discover essential truths, look to the natural world.

We have all had this experience. When we take time to look around, we see that this world is continually explaining things to us, things that we suddenly know by the rustle of wind, the patterns of branches against the sky, and the way our bare feet feel when we stand on this earth. Great tertons are able to see truth with depth beyond imagining, I suppose.

The second place Padmasambhava hid teachings was in people’s minds. I cannot tell you how dearly I love this concept. So, while some tertons discovered pith teachings from the natural world, some discovered them in their own minds, born whole. Again, I don’t have to explain to you how this is possible. You have also had the experience of discovering wisdom in your own mind that you had no idea was there. Maybe one day you were sitting in on the zillionth meeting about a new product launch and suddenly you knew the right way to promote it, the entire advertising campaign rolled itself out in your mind. Or you went to sleep knowing for certain there was no solution to the math problem you’re working on, but when you wake up, poof, you see the solution clearly. Maybe you were sitting on the bus one day, puzzling over the pain of the latest argument your with your girlfriend and, bing, you realized the relationship was over and had been over for some time. Or, say, one day, you have no notion whatsoever that there is even a difference between Hinduism and Buddhism, but you read a book by Chogyam Trungpa Rinpoche called The Heart of the Buddha and every single word makes so much sense that you think, “Oh my goodness. It is completely obvious: I’m a Buddhist. I had no idea that’s what it was called.” OK, that last one happened to me, but still. You get my point.

Discovering your own mind terma (as it’s called) could be like when someone tells you something that you already knew, but didn’t know you knew it—that is how complete and natural your understanding is. It’s more like remembering than anything else.

I have no idea how actual tertons work or what they experience, but in trying to understand it anyway this is the best analogy I can come up with, although it could be wrong.

In any case. Whether or not we’re great tertons who can bring wisdom to this world, we are each in some way tertons of our own lives who can bring wisdom to our small (or not so small) piece of the world. So as the day goes on, pay attention to what is being taught to you. Look up at the sky or, if you’re inside all day, look past the ceiling in your mind’s eye to find the great expanse of blue that is definitely still up there. When you walk down the street, feel the earth that lies—always, mutely—just below the pavement and take refuge in its mossy, unquestioning darkness. Whenever possible, listen into the silence that provides the bed for all sound.

Know that all the wisdom you seek is already perfected and present and attempting to speak to you. It is using your thoughts—ordinary, profound, dull, shocking, brilliant—as its voice.

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