Wednesday, September 26, 2007

Rabbit Rinpoche

Herewith a photograph of my best friend, Marshi, who I have decided to formally recognize as a tulku. I am going to issue a really flash certificate for him and use all of my pretty vermilion seals so people will not dare question his qualifications. In point of fact, I am recognizing him as the tulku of the 13th Karmapa's rabbit, and I am forwarding my findings to the 17th Karmapa for confirmation (and also the "other" 17th Karmapa----can't be too careful).

I do so on substantial evidence. Marshi...excuse me....Rinpoche never fails to identify a person's karmically-appropriate Buddha Family. We present him with five cards, each card corresponding to one of the five Buddha families. We tell him to look at a person and then pick a card. He glances at the person---much the way he is glancing in this photograph---and then he grabs a card with his teeth. Now, we do this with people who have already had their Buddha Family auspiciously determined by High Lamas with Posh Spice Certificates, and the thing is....Rabbit Rinpoche has never, in over fifty tries, ever failed to pick the very same Buddha Family!

In the above photograph I also direct your attention to the coin laying next to his left foot. This Lagomorph Lineage Lama is constantly finding coins, jewels, and small casks filled with yellow scrolls! You know what that means, don't you?

The First Marshi Rabbit Rinpoche (seated on Monkey)

So, there you have it: I've recognised him, I've given him a certificate with pretty seals, he has performed miracles, and he is behaving mysteriously. Now we have to ink a book deal, pump out a CD with his inspired chanting, and start raking in the cash to build him a lavish hutch...er...temple.

I tell you the truth.... this Rinpoche is profound. The other day I asked him, "So, Rinpoche, would you care to expound on the spontaneous play of wisdom in basic space?" So, he just looked at me and then he said nothing....get it? He said nothing!

Isn't that precious?

So sorry!

I just read Dragon Thunder: My Life with Chögyam Trungpa, by his widow; in particular, the account of his death, which I could never bring myself to consider.

When Trungpa was introduced to me, it was with the admonition, "he is perhaps the last Mahasiddha you will ever see."

I am so very sorry to learn that he died this way, surrounded by that which surrounded him, murdered by the ignorance and neglect of those upon whom he lavished the full magnitude of his loving compassion.

In her words, the cause of death was eurosepsis.

Every year, in the Christian nations, horrid, spoiled children beg their parents, "Mummy, Daddy, buy me the Easter Bunny!"

The indulgent parents purchase rabbit, cage, feeder, and so forth, and for a while, the rabbit is King of the Castle.

But, the thing about rabbits is, one actually has to care for them. They crap ever so constantly and pee with great vigor. This festers in their bedding, and if one isn't diligent about changing their straw, they can develop infections.

They can develop eurosepsis, for example.

So, what happens to the Magical Easter Bunny when the eggs are all found, spoiled children tire of their new toy, and indulgent parents tire of cleaning the cage?

Do you know?

Can you guess?

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