Showing posts with label Guru/Disciple. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Guru/Disciple. Show all posts

Friday, 5 February 2016

A Life Well Lived





A Life Well Lived


Beloved Lord of Refuge, how can we can never repay your kindness.
Merging into the expanse of Wisdom
you will continue to benefit countless beings …



If you don’t reflect on death and impermanence
There will be no way to practise Dharma purely.
Practice will remain an aspiration,
One that is constantly postponed.
And you may feel regret the day that death comes,
But by then it’s too late!

Kyabje Chadral Sangye Dorje Rinpoche

While working on the final stages of the book, (Who Lives? Who Dies) I received the news, early one morning, that my teacher Chadral Sangye Dorje had passed away in Parping, Nepal.

A few days earlier I had received a warning that he was unwell and had immediately thought to put together a list of things I would need to do and pack should I have to leave quickly for Nepal. I knew very well that if I received news that he had ‘passed away’ I would very likely be in no state of mind to attend to all the details of making a sudden and hasty departure. Surely enough, that ‘word’ came on the 5th of January 2016.

He had actually passed into ‘Tukdam’ (final meditation state) on the 30th of December 2015 at 17.35 but as he had requested his close family members not to announce his passing until he had fully merged into Maha Paranirvana, they carefully kept the occurrence a very strict secret. Not even people working on the premises inside Rinpoche’s compound were aware of what had taken place.

Chadral Rinpoche lived to the considerable age of one hundred and four, counting by the Tibetan system which includes the months of gestation prior to birth. His had been a grand and long life and one which had been of benefit to countless sentient beings.

He guided and took care of me for more than twenty years and the gratitude I feel along with the sense of the deep connection which will always exist between us is something which is not possible to describe in words. Along with the late Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche he was one of the central and most important people in my life.

Since 2009 it had not been possible to meet face to face with Rinpoche but for me personally, this had not been an issue. I had had the great fortune to be able to spend much time with him and was guided closely through my retreat years. I had been extremely fortunate to be able to go to him when I needed his advice or to verify ‘experiences’.

Others were not so fortunate however and a whole new group of people both young and old from all walks of life and all parts of the world missed that precious opportunity of direct contact with him. Nevertheless, his influence continues to reach far and wide.

Before 2009, Rinpoche was very accessible although he never lingered too long in any one place. There were a few occasions when things might not have gone the way some people might have expected but this was part of the beauty of his style and expression. He was never a Lama to compromise on the things that he held dear, neither could he be ‘brought around’ once a decision about something or other had been made.

A hundred and four years is a long time to be alive in the world. Rinpoche met with and was and an influential force in the lives of so many people. He saved countless lives and lived out his term without compromising his convictions in any way. His life was one of simplicity and integrity and stands as a testament and shining example for all those of us who were fortunate enough to witness at least a part of it as also for those who were not.

He spent time in worlds so incredibly different. Imagine Tibet in the early nineteen hundreds long before the Chinese occupation and try to compare that world with the one in which we live now? He moved seamlessly through both, never missing a step, never faltering in his determination to benefit sentient beings.

Practical and Yet Spontaneous

Rinpoche was a supremely practical man who did not possess even an ounce of hypocrisy. He was so direct and to the point that some feared him. Although he was very much a Tibetan ‘Yogi’ he could also be quite traditional. However, it simply was not possible to narrow him down and label him as either traditional or non-traditional because he rose to meet every occasion from a place of complete spontaneity.

His focus was always on the ‘essence’ of things, and he had little time for or interest in anything else. He was a living embodiment of the Buddha’s teachings, which he had so completely ‘owned’ through his own practice and experience and he encouraged all of his students to do the same.

Rinpoche’s spontaneity arose from his moment-to-moment capacity to live in the present, which gave rise to many unexpected little incidents, some of which could be quite humorous.

I remember one morning when we were buzzing around and preparing for a trip up into the hills of Darjeeling. We thought we had things pretty well in hand but when it was announced that the car had arrived, Rinpoche suddenly leapt up from his seat and began to head towards the door. We quickly grabbed the warm clothes that he would need that day, and awkwardly tried to dress him as he moved. Once he got into motion it could be difficult to pin him down. His daughter Semo Tara Devi was there on that occasion and between the two us we managed to put a jumper on him and also drape his trangju and sen (yogi skirt and shawl). But then suddenly he was heading towards the door again so Tara grabbed one shoe and I the other. Only when Rinpoche was actually climbing into the car were we able to see that he had a different shoe on each foot. Certainly, Rinpoche had not noticed.

Dry words in a book on a shelf were for the scholars. Rinpoche moved freely through the fields of experience. There was joyfulness around him and a scintillating sense of freedom without boundaries. Even so, it should be noted that Rinpoche was also a brilliant and prolific scholar who authored, at least, three volumes of works which are widely read.


Authentic

He was tremendously learned in an organic way; his learning came through experience, and it revealed itself with considerable authority and power because it was so completely authentic.

This authenticity never moved me more profoundly than on an occasion when a small group of woman students gathered one afternoon in his room in Salbari Gompa in order to receive the Bodhisattva vows.

Some weeks before this event, a long-time Western student and I had been discussing the practice of Guru Yoga in general and Chadral Rinpoche’s Guru Yoga in particular. I had been deeply impressed by the way my friend had recounted some of his personal experiences in this regard. He had discussed the various qualities of different sadhanas (practices) but then pointed out that the Guru Yoga of Chadral Rinpoche was so potent that the blessings which flowed from it were almost palpable. He had said something to the effect that you can almost ‘hold’ the blessings in your hands and feel the weight of them.

The image which his description had conjured in my mind remained with me very clearly, and that afternoon when we gathered to receive the vows I kept remembering it.

I had taken Bodhisattva vows already on several occasions with other teachers; however, a European student of Chadral Rinpoche’s requested that he give them to her, and I found myself in the fortunate position of already being present in the room and therefore able to be part of this small group. I was delighted by this happy occurrence.

There might have been five or six of us present that day. If I remember correctly, we were just two foreign women, a couple of Tibetan nuns and one or both of Rinpoche’s daughters.

At that time, Rinpoche was staying in the small room upstairs in his house in the Salbari compound. We were called together and then he beckoned us to enter the room and close the door behind us. We stood before him in a line across the width of the room. Rinpoche meanwhile, sat on his meditation cushion on the floor ensconced in a large furry cape.

Although I had spent a lot of time around Chadral Rinpoche in an informal way, I had only been present on a small number of occasions when he gave formal teachings or empowerments. This turned out to be one of those rare occasions.

Rinpoche asked us all to make prostrations and as we did so, he picked up his bell and damaru (small hand drum) and began to chant the lineage prayer of the Longchen Nyingtik Tradition. Rinpoche’s lineage is a remarkably short and powerful one originating in Kuntuzangpo, which passes on to Jigme Lingpa, Gyalway Nyugu then on to Patrul Rinpoche, Nyoshul Lungtok and Khenpo Ngachung, who in turn passed it on to Chadral Rinpoche and Nyoshul Khenpo.

I don’t recall that I had any particular expectations of what was to come except a pleasant sense of anticipation which in no way could have prepared me for the impact of what was to follow.

As soon as Rinpoche’s deep and rich voice began to intone the lineage prayers I felt myself suddenly and quite inexplicably catapulted into a ‘timeless state’ which was absolutely saturated with blessings, so much so, that even though I had barely completed my three prostrations, a surge of tears rose up and began to flow.

I was not at all prepared; no handkerchief, no tissues, not even a long shirt sleeve to come to my rescue. These were not the emotional tears of joy or sorrow; these were tears that overflowed from some previously untapped source in my being. With every passing moment, it was as though Rinpoche was opening wider and wider the faucet on a stream of grace. Not only did the tears flow from my eyes but my nose was also streaming. I had never had any such reaction in previous gatherings where we had all taken these same vows. This was something quite unprecedented and really took me by surprise.

For the entire duration of the gathering, this flow continued. I recall feeling some embarrassment at not being able to control what was happening or even blow my nose. I was a complete mess, so much so that I did not notice if anyone else was as affected as I was. I only recall how relieved I felt when it all ended and I could rush off to my room and wash my face and re-compose myself again.

As Conventional as He was Unconventional

In many ways, Rinpoche could be quite conventional, and yet in others, he was quite the opposite.

One instance of the manner in which Rinpoche could be unconventional, and which most people would not have been aware, prior to his passing away, caused many some surprise. This only emerged when the family compound in Parping was opened to the public. On the walls of the Lhakhang, which had been built inside the compound, were painted the Hindu deities of Shiva with his consort Parvati. On the left side of the shrine; Krishna with his consort Radha and their entourages along with various other representations of this kind.

Directly in front of the temple entrance, and housed in its own separate building, a Shiva lingam of generous proportions.
To some traditional Buddhists, this would seem like a grave eccentricity in the Lama and something quite inexplicable.

However, Rinpoche had gone beyond the narrowness of needing to confine himself solely to the accepted and traditional Tibetan Buddhist pantheon. He saw no conflict of interests. What these images represent is an expression of ‘energy’ in its many and varied forms and this ‘energy’ is universal.

On more than one occasion I was with him when we visited a Hindu shrine. One which he dropped into regularly, was the shrine on Tiger Hill near Darjeeling and there were others in various locations.

Integrity

There was complete integrity in all that he did, and this is no doubt why he could carry so powerfully the traditional alongside the non-traditional.

He made it very clear that he would not perpetuate himself in the lineage of ‘Tulkus’ and requested that no one search for his ‘reincarnation.’ In recent years, after the passing of several great masters, a number of ‘Tulkus’ were put forward as candidates, and much controversy ensued. Rinpoche made his position crystal clear on this point and thus avoided any future complication.

He had always steered clear of the monasteries and large institutions and consistently underlined the importance of doing practice in solitary retreats in order to have direct experience of the essential points of the ‘dharma.’

On several occasions Rinpoche made the comment that some people who came to him and who were dressed like ‘practitioners’ actually had no stable inner experience, while there were those who seemed to be very ordinary and who did not have the appearance of being a ‘practitioner’ yet who were in fact ‘true practitioners.’ To Rinpoche, a ‘true practitioner’ was someone who had recognized the natural state and achieved a measure of stability in settling into That.
He underlined for us the fact that we cannot judge anyone by appearances alone.

He established many retreat centers after he moved to India in the late 1950,s so that those who came to him would be able to practice in suitable locations and thereby actualize the teachings by gaining first-hand experience of them.

Practice

He clearly pointed to the fact that one has to practice the ‘dharma’ in order to gain benefit from it for one’s self and in turn for others. He had spent many decades of his life doing just that and often under the most trying conditions. For many years he had wandered around Tibet, staying in the caves or in a small tent with little more than what he could carry over his shoulder. He could easily have passed his days in comfort and plenty in one of the rich monasteries. He truly had lived as an example of what he later encouraged others to do.

The master is not able to give us something that we do not already possess. He/she simply alerts us to our true and inherent potential. It is for us to understand and gain true experience of our inmost natural state by taking his/her advice to heart. Rinpoche gave his students every opportunity to do this, providing the conditions needed to really settle down and practice.

He established many simple places where practitioners could come together, or where they could be alone in order to practice the Dharma without distraction.

He always emphasized the need to gain experience in retreats and almost all of his direct students have undergone a retreat or two under his guidance and care at one time or another.

Compassion

That our lives should be an expression of what can bring benefit to others is the motivation of a true Bodhisattva whose every action is geared to turning others towards the ‘truth’ which is within themselves. Rather than spending our precious lives and energy in meaningless activities and distractions, he encouraged us to benefit beings through sincere and concerted practice motivated by Bodhichitta. As with the perfume of a flower which need not ‘do’ anything particular and yet which affects and purifies the whole surrounding area with its scent, so too should our practice radiate its fragrance throughout space.

Soon after Rinpoche escaped to India from Tibet he took a vow renouncing the consumption of meat. This happened in nineteen sixty, long before it became fashionable. Prior to that, he had been as rabid a meat eater as any other Tibetan. Once he decided to abstain, however, his stance was unshakable, and all the temples and retreat centers under his guidance became ‘no meat’ zones. Here again, he was an example of what he preached and living to a grand age underlined the fact that human beings can subsist very healthily and happily on a vegetarian diet.

He made it a mission to release countless fish from the fish farms in Kolkata and elsewhere. Other kinds of wildlife were also rescued in a similar way.

His compassion revealed itself through a long stream of activities that brought freedom, on one level or another, to countless sentient beings.

The Humor

It was a delight to spend time in Rinpoche’s company. There was always plenty of laughter and light-hearted banter. There were so many humorous incidents, but one instantly springs to my mind.

One year, we were in the Lhakhang retreat center up in the Helambu Region of Nepal. At that time a group of devotees had come up from Sermatang to accompany Rinpoche to their monastery.

Around thirty of the older and higher ranking people from the village had made the journey on foot in order to welcome Rinpoche and accompany him back. They brought with them a sturdy little pony which Rinpoche was to ride on the way down the trail to the village. This particular pony was an old favourite of Rinpoche’s and had carried him around on other such occasions in the past.

On the morning when we were due to leave everyone gathered near Rinpoche’s hut. He climbed onto the pony, a big happy smile spreading over his face. One lama went ahead of our group wielding a large kukri blade in order to make sure that the pathway was cleared of any debris or stray branches and the rest of us followed behind.

Barely had the small horse begun to move than it let out a loud fart. We could see Rinpoche ahead shaking with laughter and everyone behind followed suit. The animal continued on in this vein every few minutes all the way to the Sermatang. Goodness knows what he had eaten for breakfast. Suffice it to say, we kept a respectful distance behind…

The View

Above all else, Chadral Rinpoche encouraged us to recognize our ‘true nature,’ because absolutely nothing else will be of any use to us in the long run. This and this alone is the chief and crucial point. In recognizing and practicing, one brings into balance all other factors in one’s life. It is the great panacea, the one thing which brings resolution to all that causes confusion and suffering in this world.

On one incredibly precious occasion when he gave a couple of us some ‘pith’ instructions, he referred to the advice given as the ‘blood of his heart.’ Such ‘treasure’ has the power to liberate countless beings; we need only open our hearts and pray with one-pointed devotion. Our devotion is like the sun that melts the snow on the top of the mountain of the Guru’s blessings.

Devotion

A few days after the news had been broken about his ‘passing,’ I made my way up to Nepal from the South of India.

I had gone to Nepal for the first time in almost a decade in August of 2015 and had the great good fortune to see Rinpoche on a number of occasions.
I had gone in order to pay my respects while I was still in the region and had made my way over from Darjeeling, having spent the summer months in my retreat hut in one of his centers in the hills.

The latest visit, however, although following just a few months after was under very different circumstances and carried with it a very different mood.
Being the middle of winter and in the grip of not only the cold but also profound economic and political misery, there was an added dimension to the sense of sadness at his passing.

Crippling power cuts and shortages of every kind were the order of the day and these were not due to the after-effects of the powerful earthquake that had struck only months before. These had been brought on by the greed and short-sightedness of an elite few.

Despite all of this, however, or perhaps because of it, the population near and far came to Parping. They came in droves to pay their respects and receive the blessing’ of the reliquary.

Initially, I had passed some days inside the temple shrine and participated in the ceremonies that were taking place. However, it soon became too crowded so I withdrew to a spot outside and below the temple area. Every evening before the prayers ended, I would head up to the temple building and stand near an open window in order to recite the words of the Guru Yoga prayers with all the Lamas who were gathered inside.

For me, this proved to be the most moving moment in the days during which I could be present. Invariably, as soon as the Umsey (chant leader) began to sing this particular prayer, his voice would crack and waver. Sometimes he would have to stop chanting all together and then another Lama would take over.

Rinpoche had brought so many of us together and the feeling that we were and are one big family remains. How can we ever forget his kindness?



A Life Well Lived

Day after day I sat and watched the stream of humanity, young and old, rich and poor pass by and through the temple precincts in which the Kudung was being housed. It was not easy for these people to make this journey to the fringes of the Kathmandu valley. Their transport was inadequate and often terribly over-crowded. It was a costly journey for most people and also extremely uncomfortable. Yet they came and kept coming.

It is profoundly moving and humbling to see how one life, which is motivated towards the good of others can influence so many in juxtaposition with those who are motivated by temporary gain and greed at the expense of so many.

What a stark contrast and the more moving for being so.

We need good examples of how to live our lives and how to give precedence to what is most meaningful. It is not as though we are going to have endless chances to do this.

Everywhere we look we can find countless examples of lives spent in dissipation and distraction while a well-lived is a rare thing indeed.

I can only rejoice in Rinpoche’s example which was and remains so deeply meaningful not only me but to so many. The radiance of what he gave the world will continue to have its beneficial effect long into the future if in fact, humanity has a long future before it…

In these days and times, we can be sure of nothing except the ‘one true thing’ of which we have spoken repeatedly throughout this tome.

May we be moved to discover this for ourselves and thereby make our own lives resonate with what is truly meaningful.

With the pure motivation of Bodhichitta (the wish to achieve enlightenment for the benefit of all sentient beings), each one of us has the power to transform our world.

May we keep this in our mind and heart; always.

Precious Bodhichitta, the highest attitude
Where it is unborn, may it arise
Where it is born, may it increase,
rising ever higher and higher.

Prayer by Shantideva


Thursday, 5 March 2015

Chatral Rinpoche, No Mind


Chatral Rinpoche at Yangla Sho

It is not easy to know where to begin when trying to describe someone like Chatral Rinpoche. Imagine a Master, one hundred and four years of age. One hundred and four years of life experience! He was like a living, walking, breathing encyclopedia of knowledge and wisdom. His areas of expertise covered fields as diverse as astrology and medicine right through to such mundane things as construction and masonry.

In his younger years, he walked the length and breadth of Tibet in the days well before Chinese occupation and he did so in the simplest possible way, with little more than a flimsy tent, a pot for boiling water, a few bricks of tea, dried cheese and tsampa (barley flour). 


All I can really do is bow down in wonder and recall some of the multitudes of memories that come to mind and that so beautifully reflect the many facets of the character of this amazing being. How fortunate I have been to have been able to live near such a Master. This alone is the most sublime of teachings!

In the presence of a realised Master, one must be prepared for everything. The intensity of life is greatly magnified within their sphere of activity. In the space of a single hour the display of 'samsara' can fluctuate so wildly that one can do little but watch, listen and learn and of course, try to keep up with the flow of events...

One morning Rinpoche, and his youngest daughter Tara Deva, and I were strolling around inside his temple compound at Salbari near Siliguri in West Bengal. Rinpoche was stretching his legs and looking over some small construction jobs that were going on. Suddenly, he looked up, turned to the gate and strode out towards the main road. Mentioning, almost as an afterthought, in his deep, booming voice that he was off to purchase such and such building materials from the market.

We had no time to grab a bag, or any money, nothing. When Rinpoche got an idea, he would just act on it spontaneously in that very moment. Everything would happen around him in this way and could be very stressful for those of us who were attending him at any given time. One had to be constantly prepared for any and every possible eventuality!

This particular morning we could do nothing but follow because Rinpoche was already out the compound gate and well on his way to the main road before we could even react. Unprepared as we were, at least, on this morning Rinpoche was fully attired, not always the case on these early strolls around the compound.

Before we knew it, he was out on the highway and had flagged down a three-wheeled auto-rickshaw and deposited himself on the front wooden plank of the rickety vehicle next to the wizened, rather decrepit Indian driver who still had the remnants of a partially smoked bidi stuck into the corner of his mouth. 

We quickly jumped into the back seat and off we went with a spurt of fumes and the splutter of the two-stroke auto engine. It whined and puttered and puffed its way down the road towards Siliguri. Every few minutes or so the creaking conveyance would belch and backfire as it lurched its way along the road, skirting potholes and various creatures that were wondering about and minding their own business.

I cannot forget the image of this 'Lion of the Mountains,' his long white beard splaying outward as wind buffeted us in the un-closed vehicle, his right hand clasping a small metal bar on the roof, and his left in a position of command on his knee, his back straight and his attention focused on the way ahead.

Looking at him, anyone would think that he was at the helm of a mighty ship setting forth on a journey to undiscovered continents.

He was always completely at ease, joyfully attuned to even the least trifle, be it a passing smile on the face of a child, the flash of green leaves in fields of tea bushes, ripe for the harvest, or the white wing of an egret as it sprang from a river bed.

We bumped along like this for about ten minutes when suddenly another vehicle closed in alongside ours. A gold coloured Mercedes Benz, silent, large and sleek seemed to appear like an eagle in a dream. At that time and in that place such a vehicle was as rarely seen as a flying saucer, at least in North-Eastern West Bengal, in the nineteen nineties.

The window in the second seat unwound and out popped a Bhutanese head. It was the Queen Mother and her royal entourage. Evidently, they had arrived from Bhutan some minutes after we had left the compound and were giving chase. The driver was motioned to pull over. Even before the car had stopped in front of our shoddy conveyance, the bodyguards, in sumptuous Bhutanese royal regalia had leapt out and begun to make full-length prostrations right then and there on the side of the road, regardless of the dust and muck.

Never a man for formalities, Rinpoche quietly got out of the rickshaw, gave the driver his dues and strode over to the open back door of the car, quickly disappearing into the lush interior of this new conveyance.

He never missed a beat and was never phased or surprised or put out by anything. He could seamlessly transfer from the rickety, decrepit auto of a peasant to the richly gilded vehicle of a Queen without even blinking an eyelid.

*****


This excerpt is quoted from my book; 
The second volume in the four-part series; Shades of Awareness

Tuesday, 18 November 2014

What can we Expect from an Authentic Guru?


Some years ago my Master Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche, wrote down a verse in which he describes the qualities of a true Guru. I have not come across another writing that does this as well or with such poetic eloquence.

Monday, 18 February 2013

At the End of Searching

Pearls of Searching

"Truth is not a reward for good behaviour,
nor a prize for passing some test.
It cannot be bought about. 

It is the primary, the unborn, the ancient
source of all that is.
You are eligible because you are,
You need not merit truth.
It is your own.
Just stop running away by running after.
Stand still.
Be quiet."
Nisargadatta Maharaj
                                                                           
We can circle the entire globe ten times over, yet in the end we must acknowledge that 'truth' is right here with us, in this very moment. 
There is no where to go in search of it. 
Not even anything to search for.
Everything that is ever needed, is already present.
There is nothing to be gained and there is nothing to loose.  
Truth is always with us, awaiting our recognition.
It is the simplest, the nearest and the most accessible of all. 

Read more in Never Not Ever Here Now
Books by the Writer

Wednesday, 11 January 2012

The White Sail




While briefly lent this precious human body's white sail
pushed by pure intentions gentle wind,
without turning back towards miserable samsaric deserts
and making the error of missing this chance,
try to receive virtue's jewels by crossing the waves of ocean mind
to the supreme continent of the Triple Gems,
since doing this is more meaningful than anything else!

Thinley Norbu

The chapter on the life of another great Tibetan Master has closed and yet Dungsey Thinley Norbu's writings will continue to inspire and motivate those in search of truth for many generations to come.

I met him for the first time in the early 1990,s at Asura Cave above the small township of Parping, in the southern corner of the Kathmandu Valley. He appeared there one afternoon with a small group of Western Students. At the time I was occupying a room in the retreat center of Tulku Orgyen which is next to the famous cave.

When I heard a Tibetan voice carefully enunciating sentences in English, I curiously leaned out of my window to see who it was and was pleasantly surprised to see Thinley Norbu talking to one of his students while at the same time, trying to catch his breath after the lengthy climb. Asura is a good hundred steep, steps up the side of a hill from the village below. As soon as I realized who it was, I shot down the stairs, taking a long white greeting scarf with me.

I had been extremely fortunate to be present at a number of teachings that he gave over the years in Boudhanath, but I had never met him personally, so this was a truly golden opportunity.
After I had gone forward and offered the Kadak, he immediately asked who my teacher was and when I told him that it was Chadral Rinpoche he seemed very pleased indeed.

Chadral Rinpoche and Thinley Norbu were very close, in fact he had come to Parping to visit Chadral Rinpoche at his Monastery which was situated lower down the hill at the base of a mighty cliff.

Read more in Masters, Mice and Men
Volume 3 of Shades of Awareness


Dunsey Thinley Norbu Rinpoche.

Friday, 16 December 2011

Magic Mushrooms




The Healer, by Nicholas Roerich.

In the Himalayan Mountain's temperate zones, one can find 

many different varieties of mushrooms. Mushroom lore is quite highly developed among the local populations and not least among those staying in long Buddhist retreats. For many of these Yogis mushrooms in fact form an important part of their diet.

In the mountains north of Kathmandu, there is a very famous and highly prized mushroom that the Tibetans call Ah Sharmo. It grows in the thick, damp forests of upper Helambu. It can become very large and weigh in at a few kilos if one stumbles upon a mature growth in the forest. Generally they grow out of decaying trees and logs from a white based stem that shoots out in all directions in a bright orange profusion of frills. 


Chadral Rinpoche has a great fondness for these particular specimens. In fact he unashamedly relishes them! As do all those who have had the good fortune to taste them at one time or another. Little can compare with the pure enjoyment of roasting these mushrooms over a glowing, hot fire, splashed with a little fresh Dzomo butter, during a chilly Himalayan evening. The smell and the taste are incomparable.


There fore it was with great excitement that one of the Lamas and i, stumbled upon a little treasure trove of this delicacy one noon in the forest not far from our huts. We cut a few inches from the base, to be sure that more would grow up after a few days and carefully took our spoils back to the camp...


Read more in Tibetan Tales and other True Stories

Books by the Writer

Thursday, 6 October 2011

He Who Dances In The Heart

Canvas Painting by Nicholas Roerich
Precepts of the Teacher, Nicholas Roerich
During the years spent near my Masters, i was able to observe many things about the way they lived their lives.  The opportunity to observe them, was of itself one of the most profound teachings.  The atmosphere of  truth in which a Master lives and moves and has his Being, radiates outwardly like the delicate fragrance of an exquisite flower.

Each look, each gesture, each movement, and word, carries a power that is unique and that moves like an arrow, instantly and always finding its mark.  This can happen because no ego is involved. The life of  a perfectly Enlightened Being is an expression of that, alone.


When our every thought and word and deed is saturated with a sense of ownership and ego, how much more striking it is to observe those who move from the place of ego-lessness.



In both the great and small things of day to day life in the presence of such a Master, nothing can be taken for-granted.  Nothing is irrelevant or unimportant and the joy of living in their presence gives rise to magical moments of unexpected spontaneity.

I remember one day when there were few people around and it was a beautifully still, golden evening.  Chadral Rinpoche was staying in a house that had been newly built by one of his Nepali students in Parping.


He and i were strolling about in the garden when Rinpoche noticed a stairway leading up to the roof. Already in his late eighties, he did not hesitate to propel me towards the steps.  He was always eager and curious.  Soon i found myself puffing up the stairway behind him.  When we emerged out onto the open roof a glorious sunset awaited us.  Brilliant clouds danced on the horizon, caught up by the golden and fiery red and orange hues of the westering sun.  It was a spectacular sight, with unimpeded views from horizon to horizon...


Read more in Tibetan Tales and other True Stories

Books by the Writer

Friday, 9 September 2011

Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche

Tibetan Master, Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche
Khyentse Rinpoche


The evenings at Shechen Monastery were, for me, rather special times.  Khyentse Rinpoche would be sitting in his wooden meditation box, usually with a group of Lamas and devotees around him, his vast form glowing in an almost unearthly radiance mixed with the soft rays of the sinking sun.  

Shafts of sunlight would filter in through the yellow curtains, casting a golden light across the room. Butter lamps flickered on the altar and the smoke of incense  wafted  about in the still air.  There was a silence in those evening, an ambiance of grace that permeated the whole atmosphere.  During those hours i always had a sense of absolute contentment. In his presence, nothing was missing, the world felt utterly complete.

The atmosphere around Khyentse Rinpoche was never static, it always felt  'full'  to the point of saturation and yet, at the same time, intensely charged and deeply silent.  

His 'presence' created a most unique and dynamic space into which all manner of people from many different walks of life could come and find solace.  He never turned anyone away.  From Kings to ordinary folk from the villages, from high Lamas to simple monks, visitors would stream into his rooms from the crack of dawn until often late at night, Rinpoche, all the while, would be there in his meditation box,  giving,  giving,  giving....

This flow of giving was natural, un-contrived, and inexhaustible.  It was like a bottomless spring that gushes forth into a parched desert, and the thirsty world came to drink from these pristine,  blessed waters.

I remember one evening, after the sun had  set and there were only a handful of visitors and a few Lamas milling about in the large ante room.  Rinpoche was, as usual, in his meditation box and perusing a text, a pair of small reading glasses delicately balanced on his nose.  The silence of that moment between day and night had permeated the place with a feeling of great peace.  

Suddenly the outer door to the waiting room opened and in streamed a large melee of Westerners.  Tall ones, fat ones, thin ones, and short ones.  A whole colorful variety, dressed in all the shades of the spectrum and in fashions from as many different countries around the globe as there were numbers among them.  It was odd to see such a confusion of types float into the room in such disciplined silence and with such a focused sense of purpose on their faces.  In fact it was very striking, quite apart from the contrast that all this sudden influx bought with it...

Read more in Shades of Awareness, Part 3, 
Masters, Mice and Men

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Sunday, 4 September 2011

Chadral Rinpoche

Kyabje Chadral Rinpoche
Chadral Rinpoche
It is not easy to know where to start when trying to describe someone like Chadral Rinpoche.   Imagine a Master, 98 years of age.  98 years of life experience!  He is like a living, walking, breathing encyclopaedia of knowledge. 

His areas of expertise cover fields from astrology and medicine right through to such mundane things as construction and masonry. 

In his younger years, he walked the length and breadth of Tibet in the days well before Chinese occupation and he did so in the simplest possible way, with little more than a flimsy tent, a pot for boiling water, a few bricks of tea, dried cheese and tsampa (barley flour). 

All I can really do is bow down in wonder and recall some of the multitudes of memories that come to mind and that so beautifully reflect the many facets of this amazing being. 

One morning Rinpoche, me and Rinpoche's daughter Tara Deva, were strolling about inside his temple compound at Salbari near Siliguri in West Bengal.  Rinpoche was stretching his legs and looking over some small construction jobs that were going on, when he suddenly turned to the gate and strode out towards the main road mentioning, almost as an afterthought, in his deep, booming voice that we would go and purchase such and such building materials from the market.

We had no time to grab a bag, or any money, nothing.  
When Rinpoche got an idea, he would just act on it spontaneously in that very moment.  Everything would happen around him in this way and could be very stressful for those of us who were attending him at any given time. One had to be constantly prepared for any possible eventuality!


Friday, 5 August 2011

Headlights in the Sky

Comet Hyakutake

Comet Hyakutake, image by David Darling.

In March 1996, i was staying in Parping, a small village to the south of the Kathmandu valley. Although spring was beginning to set in, it was still remarkably chilly at night.  Parping, in those days, was a small hamlet at the end of a long and winding road.  It was visited only on Tuesdays and Saturdays, during which times, the roads would be choked with taxis and buses plying back and forth from  the city.
The rest of the week, it was a sleepy little village, with a few Hindu and Buddhists temples scattered about here and there.

At that particular time, i was staying in a small  compound belonging to Chadral Rinpoche, not far from his monastery at Yanglasho.  This place is really the main seat where he resides.  It has a spring that has been captured in two fairly large tanks just below the rocky outcrop in which the monastery is nestled.  And just  nearby is a small cave that is said to have been one of several where the great Tantric Master, Padmasambava is known to have spent some time in meditation.  Large old trees surround the cliffs, the spring and the monastery, giving it all something of the feel of a small oasis.

At that particular time Chadral Rinpoche was conducting a ceremony in the Lhakang just above the monks quarters.  These prayer gatherings normally last ten days, during which time, special, consecrated substances and herbs are gathered together and placed within a carefully constructed mandala.  Then prayers are recited and rituals enacted by Rinpoche and his gathering of monks and nuns.  Soon after the beginning of this ceremony, which is  called a Drupchen, the Lhakang is 'sealed' so speak, and only those who have sipped some consecrated water, before entering, are then allowed to cross the threshold into the Temple. From that day on, the sessions are carried out in a daily routine that begins before dawn and ends around 8pm at night, however there are several monks who always remain in the temple to recite the mantra, and this is kept up during the entire ten days and nights that the ceremony is in progress.

On the 10th day, everyone rises very early and the puja begins around 2am.  This is the day when the 'mandala' is symbolically opened and everyone present is given some of the special, blessed substances and water that have been kept within the closed shrine.

That morning i rose at 1.30am, drowsily dressed myself,  made my few preparations and then closing door,  headed out onto the road that runs down to the monastery where the ceremony was about to begin.  Just as i was closing the outer gate, i noticed some thing very odd...

Read more in Tibetan Tales and other True Stories
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