Somewhere, A Boy and His Rabbit

I'll be taking a lengthy rest from this web log, beginning today. While I'm gone, there might be a couple of posts from my friends, or something from me that was "already in the can," as they say in Hollywood, but live content will go silent after this post.

Somewhere, a boy and his rabbit are always praying for your happiness.

Nine Bad Omens: Ngenpa Gu Dzom

"I walked into the middle of a featureless field,
I shot an arrow into the center of the cloudless sky:
I did not care if it was a good day or a bad day."

Ngenpa Gu Dzom, or the "Nine Bad Omens" day is the sixth day of the eleventh Tibetan month... tomorrow, as it happens. It starts at noon on Saturday and lasts until noon Sunday.

Here is what Alex Berzin has to say: "During this period, most Tibetans do not try to do any special religious or other positive practices, but instead go on picnics, relax, and play. The history of this custom is that at the time of the Buddha, one person tried to accomplish many positive deeds this day, but nine bad things befell him. Buddha advised that on this date each year in the future, it is best not to try to accomplish much good."

Everybody remembers Nine Bad Omens, but everybody forgets it is immediately followed by Zangpo Chu Dzom, or "Ten Auspicious Omens," which starts on noon Sunday and lasts until noon Monday.

Alex reminds us: "On this day, at the time of the Buddha, ten wonderful things happened to that same person when he continued trying to do what was constructive. This period, then, is considered very favorable for positive projects but, in general, Tibetans also take this time for picnics and games."

Vehicles

Yesterday, I mentioned the 84,000 categories of the Buddha's teachings. These are contained in the Hinayana, Mahayana, and Vajrayana vehicles. There is also a fourth category of vehicle that deserves mention and that is...

We are in the early, early, early planning stages of a land, air, and sea expedition to visit Central Asian archaeological sites of cultural significance (read: Buddhist hot spots). Let me explain that although I am doing some of the planning, it is likely that others will be doing the expeditioning. This is one of the ways I deal with deteriorating health: I learn to live vicariously. Be this as it may, the project is an exciting one, and gives a handy excuse to spend time pouring over maps, satellite photos, and informant reports (oops!) which is something I am still able to do.

The plan is to start out in the Mojave, just to shake out the equipment. Then, the vehicles will go to Long Beach and load on the proverbial slow boat to China. When the vehicles are dockside in China, the personnel will fly in and begin the drive to the Gobi. There is some thought that after Mongolia, the expedition may move on to the eastern Tibetan Autonomous Region, to assess remote medical service delivery issues (read: monks need dental care). In point of fact, we may skip Mongolia altogether and just concentrate on T.A.R.---going there in a fraternal attempt to openly repudiate the failed doctrine of separatism---but we are still working with that.

While it is more likely than not that the expedition will travel in specially kitted-out but otherwise standard 4x4 vehicles, the expedition "chase" truck will be rather a different matter:


This is not a Land Rover; rather, this is a Unimog outfitted for the Gobi. I like the colour. Maybe we could paint the Medicine Buddha on the sides.

I'm partial to Pinzgauers myself---6x6 is better than 4x4---but they don't necessarily lend themselves to large superstructures. The only Land Rover I ever saw that looks like it could past muster is this monster, built for a Canadian dentist who delivers rural care. This might well be a model for the T.A.R:


American firms are also getting into the act. This is an expedition vehicle built for the Baja 1000:


I can already hear the screeching and howling from the e-monkey tree: "It isn't Buddhist!" "We want to see credentials!" "Who authorized this?" "What on earth are trucks doing on a Buddhist blog?"

Sigh.

If I had the energy, I would sponsor a Nyingmapa team for NASCAR, with the Vajra Guru Mantra painted on the sides of the car, an image of Dorje Drollo on the hood, Jetsunma's dance mix of the Seven Line Prayer blasting out of loudspeakers on the roof, and Junior Rinpoche behind the wheel. Every weekend, eleventy million rednecks would see the "Liberator," and instead of checkered flags we'd have prayer flags.

Ask not what Buddhism can do for you.

Ask instead what you can do for all sentient beings.

The Acme Discourse

"Makin' up things to do...
Not runnin' in all directions tryin' to find you...
I'm just rollin' with the flow...
Goin' where the lonely go."
----Merle Haggard

I saw this in a cartoon once, so it must be true.

Aladdin is working for this old guy who goes around the quartier, hollering "New lamps for old... new lamps for old." The old guy gives the used lamps to Aladdin to polish. Aladdin sits around polishing lamps all day, and this is the basic routine. Except one day, Aladdin polishes a rather singular sort of lamp, and a genie pops out. Seems this genie has been trapped for centuries, waiting for somebody to release him by means of rubbing the lamp.

You with me so far?

Naturally, the genie is grateful to Aladdin for rubbing the lamp so he decides to grant Aladdin three wishes. Why his gratitude is limited to just three wishes is something nobody knows. Speaking personally, if I was imprisoned in a lamp for centuries and somebody let me out, I would be good for more than three wishes. However, maybe this is a genie thing and I am missing some subtle, internal logic or higher symbolism. Maybe three wishes is par for the course in these circumstances. You also have to wonder why Aladdin didn't make his first wish for more wishes. Maybe he didn't want to use up all the wishes. Maybe he wanted to leave some wishes for others. Maybe the three wishes are a euphemism for the three jewels.

It's up to you.
Anyway, Aladdin gets three wishes, after which he has all sorts of adventures, the moral of which I forget. In my mind, this cartoon sort of runs into the one where Mickey Mouse steals the sorcerer's wand and winds up with brooms carrying buckets. I mean, it's the same sort of message: don't tinker with the force unless you know what you're doing. Just stick to polishing lamps or sweeping up after the sorcerer.

I know that I don't entirely approve of the premise but I do understand why, in postwar America, it became necessary to subliminally beam messages like, "Be content with what you are." You had guys coming back from Europe and the Pacific who had been and done; they had flown with the Angel of Death, they had walked with the Grim Reaper, they knew the combination to the lock, and they knew where to find the warm center. All of a sudden, these guys were back on planet earth and they had to go work in soda fountains.

Nevertheless, the message had an unintended, secondary effect, because it reaffirmed our basic delusional belief that you can swap old lamps for new lamps and all your dreams will come true.

So, this is what we do. When things are not to our liking, then instead of working with them, we just swap old lamps for new lamps and start wishing. This is observed to perfection in what passes for an interpersonal relationship in this society. If the "significant other" doesn't work out, we just say, "Oh, well... time to move on," and then we start rubbing and wishing with somebody else. The thing to understand, however, is that nothing is going to work out. Every meeting is destined to end in parting. Every hot obsession is destined to end in icy indifference. It snows in the desert, don't you know? Sooner or later, the blush is always going to leave the rose.

That is certainly one way to look at things, and if you are into labels, you could even say that is a "Buddhist way of looking at things." Except, you would be incorrect. There is no "Buddhist way of looking at things." There are, in fact, 84,000 categories of Buddha's teachings, and each one is an absolutely truthful and foolproof means to permanent happiness. People ask me all the time, "What do Buddhists think about this, what do Buddhists think about that?" I never know how to answer them. The moment we let our view harden, we lose whatever truth may have been originally implicit in that moment. We lose the spontaneous wonder that is inherent in those 84,000 categories.

Be this as it may, I still sit and ponder about the lamp refurbishing business that is the subtext of our desires. I wonder why we let ourselves get trapped into thinking next time is going to be different. Different how? More importantly, different why? And I am not speaking about relationships now... I am speaking about the fundamental misconception that there is something called enlightenment and that it is right around our corner... the fundamental misconception we have that eventually colors everything we do as Buddhists: the thing I call the "it."

If we meditate, we will get "it."

I saw so-and-so Rinpoche today, and he really had "it."

We went to a puja, and I really felt "it."

The new-for-old thesis subsumes an "it" which becomes the locus of who we are, where we are, and what we are. For example: tomorrow, you are sitting in a coffee shop when in strides the Dalai Lama and he suddenly proclaims you the 10th incarnation of Billy Bob Rinpoche. Ten minutes prior, you were just Billy Bob, but now you are a living saint.

Well, that certainly explains a few things... and just wait until those kids who laughed at you in the 4th grade read the New York Times.

Life is now very, very good. People are flocking to you in droves, you can spout off whatever nonsense jumps to mind, and people will actually take it seriously. Scholars will be having discussions like, "Well, I think what Billy Bob Rinpoche really said was...," and "I disagree... I think the Tenth William Robert Rinpoche's essential thesis is..." People will be kissing your ass for sunshine and calling it guru yoga. People will be calling you the sole refuge because they're too scared to think for themselves. And there you are, sitting on the brocade cushion, thinking you have "it" all under control, except your stomach is churning. You don't have "it" under control at all. You are still plain vanilla Billy Bob, with 4th grade laughter ringing in your ears.

You can't authentically trade some hypothetical status predicated on the past for the reality of spontaneously present actions. Really, the only thing you can do is come to some realization about the nature of mind that no longer allows for the ideations of "it" to be a factor in your view. Or, to put this another way: just take "it" out of the equation.

Now, having argued that new-lamps-for-old is a flawed approach, let me reverse the premise and argue that it is perfection.

Just as the lotus arises stainlessly from the mud, so does the wish-granting quality that lies implicit in the lamp of awareness respond to the application of effort wherein one seeks to removes the dust of mistaken beliefs.......

(ah... ahh... ahhh.... ahchoo! )

Excuse me? Did we just red-line the bullshit-o-meter?


I think Popeye Rinpoche put this succinctly: I yam what I yam and that's all what I yam.

That would have been in the root tantra, mind you.

Remember when the Bluto Demon attempted to deconstruct Popeye Rinpoche, inspiring Popeye Rinpoche to perform the Spinach-Eating Rite and liberate the living snot out of the Bluto Demon, thus securing the one-pointed absorption of the activity mudra Olive Oil Khandro?

Yeah... I liked that one, too.

However, to continue with our earlier example, let us now imagine that one fine day you get a call from Gotso Sharpie and he says, "Hey, Billy Bob... got bad news and good news. First, the Dalai Lama is terribly sorry but he made a mistake. You're not the Tenth Billy Bob Rinpoche anymore. We're gonna' lay that one on a relative, instead."

You ask, "So what's the bad news?"

Gotso Sharpie says, "The bad news is he can't make mistakes, he's the embodiment of love, and love means never having to say you're sorry. Nepotism is one thing... but tough love is quite another... Billy Bob, you're on your own."

Now, all of a sudden, you have to stop relying on your hypothetical status predicated on the past and start relying on actual ability. You are no longer artificially enabled; rather, you are inherently enabled. All the concepts that seem so charming in the abstract must now become an ever-present, self-arising potential... an authentic possibility, if you like to put it that way... wherein you accept the responsibility without trying to control the experience.

In 1959, when Tibetans started trickling across the border, nobody knew who anybody was anymore. Heaven and earth really changed places. A little less than a decade later, when the first Tibetan teachers started coming to the West, there was no way to judge who was who. Now, with benefit of hindsight, it all seems so easy, but at the time anybody could say anything about anything.

So, not knowing that we should immediately dash ourselves on the ground in full prostration, sell the family farm and make offerings of gold, we simply listened to what these guys had to say. I mean, how could anybody take anything on face value? On face value, Trungpa Rinpoche was a frequently intoxicated poet--- a sort of religious Dylan Thomas, raging at the dying of the light. On face value, there were a bunch of other guys who couldn't speak a word of English but who sat on thrones and rang bells, and later went on shopping sprees.

We listened, and we thought about what we heard, and we did a little research here and there, and we arrived at our various conclusions. We didn't really look at the messengers. We listened to the message, and we liked what we heard well enough to let it shape our lives.

Our lives can be over anytime.

It is like packing for a trip.

What will we take with us?

What will we believe?

What will we hold dear?

What do we keep?

What do we discard?



Among my greatest lamas
I include a butcher,
a prostitute, and a bandit.

-----Kyabje Kunzang Dorje Rinpoche

This big cartoon about Tibetan Buddhism with its philosopher cats and dogs, and magical mice and ducks, and birds (and rabbits) is not the feature film, but it is still sometimes useful to watch it as if it were the feature film.

We have all been to the movies. We have all sorts of reasons for going and we have all sorts of rituals such as parking, walking to the theater, buying popcorn, etc. We settle in, and sometimes what we see makes us laugh, sometimes it makes us cry. We get on the edge of the seat for the action scenes. We get ideas from the romantic scenes. We yell at the characters, "Hey...stupid....watch out for the gun!"

We have this entire "experience" predicated on illusion, and when we leave the theater, we can have impressions and ideas and so forth, but fundamentally, we understand that all we have done is go see a movie. We may buy the t-shirt, dress up in drag and watch Rocky Horror one zillion times, but we can still say, "It's just a movie."

O.K.

New lamps for old means going into the multiplex, watching a few scenes of the first movie, then jumping up and going to the second screen for a few scenes. We believe there is this guy or girl...this us, or this it...who is moving between the screening rooms. It means being trapped in the dialectic of seemingly going to the movie, or even having the movie come to us. It subsumes a focality to which reports are being made and by which decisions are being made.



But, when we watch cartoons on Saturday morning, we don't think like that. We see the coyote feel the pain from Acme, but in the next second he's up again and chasing the road runner. We think, "Aw, that's just a cartoon... that stuff ain't real." We don't care if it is this cartoon or that cartoon. We watch without watching.

And then we go about our business, maybe eating Cheerios or listening to Merle Haggard, going where the lonely go.

It was snowing today and I wandered around, thinking about you. I would say that I miss you, except that is like saying I want to replay the same scene in the movie over and over again. I guess I forgive you, except there is no subject requiring faith. I still think of no other besides you. Here, there are no new lamps for old. There is only what seems to happen frame by frame, and that stuff ain't real.

Up in the hills I turned my back to the sun and watched my shadow. I looked in the sky and saw the shadow appear there, as well, and then I looked around at all the empty mines.

I thought about miners who dig in the wrong places.

I thought about all the gold they never find.

I do not understand why such misunderstanding is possible, when treasure is so clearly in evidence.

Capricorn Shoulder

“On the joint of the right shoulder and upper arm, are the thirty channels of the thirty-day division of Capricorn.”

“The first channels of the action-faculty cakras to die at the end of a completed life are those of the right shoulder joint.”

The Kalachakratantra can be so cheerful.

They call it “over fifty shoulder” most places, and I do not know that anyone has ever come up with a definitive treatment. My Chinese doctor friend from S'hai used to take a very long needle and slam it into the right hip. While the patient was reacting to this, he grabbed the arm and started working the shoulder in a circular motion. This usually reduced the patient to tears. I once asked him why he used the needle in the hip, and he just smiled and said "endorphins." He said that the right shoulder figured in strokes --- he said he could predict who would have a stroke by examining their shoulder.

He predicted one for me and in that he was quite correct.

It must come as a terrible shock to Baby Boom Buddhists, but we are all rapidly approaching the "end of a completed life." Tomorrow is not guaranteed to any of us. Neither is a trouble-free conclusion to today.

The bus is coming and first we are going under and then we are getting on. Since this is absolutely, positively in the works, doesn't it make sense to set aside more and more time each day to practice? Doesn't it make sense to start making provisions?

Tell me the truth... you feeling a little discomfort in the shoulder?

Commentarianism

Here is a handy link to the Center for Buddhist Studies Blog at Columbia University. These are guys who can use phrases like, "the cult of Padmasambhava," and get paid for it.

Comes the Peace

Comes the Peace: My Journey to Forgiveness is a book about a young Western boy who was placed in a Tibetan monastery by his mother. It is published by Wisdom Books, and I think it should be required reading. I am reprinting the advertising copy in full, below:

"The extraordinary true story of a young American boy dumped in Nepal by his hippy parents at the age of three, who was then placed in a Tibetan monastery at six and his later arduous teenage quest to rediscover his roots and forgive his family. "At 17 with only a few meagre possessions and speaking little English, Daja Wangchuk Meston caught a plane to America, the unfamiliar land of which he was a citizen, to try and uncover his identity and mend long-severed ties with his family. In the early 1970s, when he was three years old he had been left in the care of a Tibetan family who in turn put him in Kopan monastery, where he was ordained as a monk at six. There, he was ostracized by the other young boy monks, who taunted him for his Caucasian physical traits, left so hungry he stole scraps of bread, and slept on a flea-infested straw mat. He longed for his mother's embrace, but she, turning her back on her rich Hollywood upbringing, (her father was renowned for the Bonanza Western TV series) had become a nun known as Ani Wongmo and thought her child would impede her spiritual journey. "The story of Wangchuk's self-generated ouster from Kopan monastery - he pretended to have slept with a prostitute - his eventual migration to the USA, his lifelong attempt to understand and reconnect with his parents, and his eventual and dangerous work on behalf of Tibetan rights under Chinese oppression make for compelling reading. "Wangchuk finally used his Buddhist upbringing and the love of a good woman - his young Tibetan wife- to learn that forgiving others can play a critical role in healing a damaged heart."

Western Atavism and Tibetan Buddhism

Quick... a freshly-flayed, elephant-hide cape symbolizes what?

If you were born in the West, does the symbolism of ancient India---filtered through medieval Indo-Tibetan cultural norms--- mean anything to you at all on a visceral level?

We had this discussion recently, in the context of the absolute horror that is "Western Buddhism." We wondered aloud if it wouldn't be useful to start cataloging the visceral triggers that do evoke response, and compare them to the visceral triggers used in Tibetan Buddhism. I mean, in the initial stages, it all seems so quaint to have somebody foreign playing or struggling with English, finding all sorts of poetry that native speakers don't immediately find. It is, after all, imported... and that is what we seem to crave so much: a strangeness thoroughly unlike the Catholicism or Judaism or snake-handling of our forefathers. But, as we move right along, does mumbling about somebody else's subconscious images really do any good?

When the Tibetans started slavishly imitating the Indians they invited in for a dose of civilization, they weren't exactly erudite. They didn't have a written language, per se (actually, they did, but that's another story), so they had to invent one which would allow them to accurately translate the languages of their masters, as distinct from expressing their own imagery. Somewhere along the way, they started dividing mantra from prayer. The mantra belonged to India while the prayer belonged to Tibet, the latter originating in the spoken language, by which means it felt natural to express deeply held concepts. This, in turn, led to the rich minefield of commentary, for which latter-day Tibetan scholars are justly famous. In Tibetan Buddhism, we have commentaries on commentaries on commentaries, and then we have commentaries on those commentaries. All of these commentaries are one guy saying what he thinks another guy said, and it seems there is no end in sight.

This is just one more reason why the terma tradition is so valuable: it is quite simply original. If there is a language involved, it is dakini language, but the decoding of this language does not involve interpretation --- it is quite simply the terton's authentic experience.

You can learn all the symbolism quite perfectly, you know? Then I suppose you can be a symbolic Buddhist. On the other hand, you can get past all that to the meaning... to the heart of the matter, as it were... and actually improve your view.

Maybe you can write your own prayers.

I see this from time to time, and it is outrageous how theistic they become: "Oh, Lordy, Lordy... be my Buddha, save my bacon." I suppose this is an understandable by-product of our heritage, but it underscores how deeply infected we are with theistic normatives. That being the case---and here is the tricky point---how valid is it, then, to rely on Western symbols versus Indo-Tibetan symbols? Our little visceral triggers apparently do not come without monotheistic baggage.

Maybe the best solution is to operate from direct experience, and let the prayers write themselves.

I mean... who you gonna' call?

Unclogging the Bunny

When your Bunny gets clogged up, it is no laughing matter. What does a constipated lagomorpha cuniculis have to do with Vajrayana Buddhism, you ask? Just about everything, I answer, because there ain't gonna' be no sunshine anywhere until we get him unclogged.

Naturally, I consulted experts---my daughter, who is a D.V.M., and my friend Dr. Pema, who is a D.V.M.---and then played the consensus. For those of you who are faced with this nightmare in the future, take an eyedropper and administer pineapple juice. Then, after about a day or so, take a 1/4 teaspoon of probiotics, mix it in with the pineapple juice, and then use the eyedropper to pick up the contents of the teaspoon. You can play Billie Holiday records while you do this, for atmospheric reasons.



Then, of course, you snatch up the little stinker and eyedropper-in the mixture (the loading end, not the firing end).

The pineapple juice and probiotic does the trick. Rabbit is unclogged and leaves medications to return to meditations.

This rainbow appeared within an hour after the little rabbit went about his business. Now, I am not making any assertions here ...far from it... I am merely reporting the facts as I witnessed them: the rabbit crapped, the rainbow appeared, and I heard a chorus of dakinis intoning songs of gratitude from the high heavens.

Click here for an introduction to the Incredible Healing Rabbit series of videos from India.

Christianity in Early Tibet

There is a most fascinating post of the same name on the earlytibet.com blog, and I suppose I should let this speak for itself.

One of the most striking features of this post is the included reference to Jesus Christ as an amalgam of Vajrapani and Shakyamuni (!)

You'll also find a link to the "Tibeto-Logic" blog's deconstruction of Jesus in Tibet.

While you're at it, you might as well also visit the "Jesus Thangka."

Well, Merry Christmas, everybody. Now nobody can say we didn't give equal time.

Peacock Town

I'm visiting the wonderful city of Arcadia, California today. I used to live here quite happily and, in fact, once died here-- on an operating table in the local hospital, only to be immediately brought back. The town symbol is the peacock, because peacocks strut freely about the streets. They center around the Los Angeles County Arboretum: one of my favorite places in the world. Every time I see a peacock it brings to mind Dharmarakshita's Wheel of Sharp Weapons. There is both a literal and a poetic translation on line, which you can see here.

In jungles of poisonous plants strut the peacocks,
Though medicine gardens of beauty lie near.
The masses of peacocks don’t find gardens pleasant,
But thrive on the essence of poisonous plants.

In similar fashion, the brave bodhisattvas
Remain in the jungle of worldly concern.
No matter how joyful this world’s pleasure gardens,
These brave ones are never attracted to pleasures,
But thrive in the jungle of suffering and pain.

UPDATED: Well, the thing is, I missed the place so much that I moved back, just to be near the peacocks.

Prayer to Remove Obstacles

Du sum sang gyay guru rinpoche
Ngo drup kun dak de wa chen poi zhap
Bar chad kun sel dud dul drak pos tsal
Sol wa deb so jyin gyiy lap tu sol
Chyi nang sang wai bar chad zhi wa dang
Sam pa lhun gyi drup par jyin gyi lob

Precious guru, embodiment of all Buddhas of the three times;
Great bliss, the lord of all accomplishments;
Wrathful power, who dispels all hindrances and subdues demons;
Pray bestow your blessings.
Please remove the outer, inner, and secret obstacles and
Grant your blessings to accomplish wishes spontaneously.

1963 Video of Dudjom Rinpoche

Quite a few people missed this link to a 1963 French television documentary featuring Dudjom Rinpoche and the 16th Karmapa, among others. The commentary is dated and pretentious, but the photography is tremendous.

This is a photograph of the XVIth Karmapa, at around age 40, as seen in the video. The thing to remember is that these images were captured not long after the 1959 exodus to India.

If you know who to look for, this video is a treasure trove. Here is a rare photograph of Kyabje Kalu Rinpoche.

Speaking of Goblins

Now, a very good friend of mine was boasting about goblins not long ago. I didn't want to say anything at the time, but we have our own goblins around here. However, the thing is, we turn our goblins into stone and only animate them when they do so awfully wish to be good.

Tibetan Braille

Sabriye Tenberken went blind at age 13, but she still managed to pursue her dreams. Her 1994 visit to Tibet, and her encounters with blind children there, led to another dream, and now, because of this, we have Braille Without Borders.

Most importantly, because of Sabriye, we now have the Tibetan Braille system she developed at Friedrich-Willhelms University,in Bonn, Germany.

Please, visit her web site, linked above, and purchase her book, My Path Leads to Tibet. The proceeds are used to fund her work with the estimated 30,000 blind people in the Tibetan Autonomous Region.

Ocean Eyes

Today is Dakini Day, and I send the above photograph along to absent friends. And now, time for today's particularly special post. Like the song says, this is dedicated to the one I love.

When we are young, twenty years seems like a very long time.

When we are older, it seems like the blink of an eye.

Linearly-experienced time has the quality of accelerating: as we age, time goes faster and faster.

The year that seems like ten years to you seems like a month to me. But, there is a paradox: the minute that seems like a second to you, feels like eternity to me. This is the minute just before I hear your voice or see your face.

However, today I have a gift for you. I have recently been disguised around people again, noticing my foibles and pitfalls. I want to give you something that will help you pierce through such foibles and avoid such pitfalls, so that the connection between us remains meaningful.

In the Nyingma tradition of Tibetan Buddhism, with which I have some enduring link, during the twentieth century there were two particularly great masters: Kyabje Dudjom Rinpoche, and Kyabje Tarthang Rinpoche the Elder. Through the inestimable kindness of the latter, I was able to meet the former. Through the inestimable kindness of both, I was able to study a composition popularly known as the “Confession Prayer” of Dudjom Rinpoche. This is sometimes known as the “Vajrayana Confession Prayer.” In particular, I was fortunate enough to privately receive oral commentaries and pith instructions upon this theme when I was quite young---when I was your age, in fact. To hear it once is sufficient. To hear it twice is joy. To place it into use is to invite success.

So great are your inherent treasures, and so sublime is your compassionate manifestation in samsara, that I know you have no real need of my counsel. Still, since you graciously permit me to instruct myself by seeming to instruct you, I will do this anyway. You are one of the only human beings I have ever immediately recognized: you shine so brightly that even a blind dog like me can see. Although the connection with you was instant, the reunification with you is gradual. It is made of eternal minutes that inhabit speeding years. In your omniscience, which is the omniscience of the true wisdom dakini, and about which there can be no mistake, you already know my heart. You already know the nature of my intention.

This photograph is for all those who have requested a picture of Tenpa Rinpoche: this is a picture of his heart. Actually, today's post is dedicated to the person in this picture. Please also note that if you click the link on Dudjom Rinpoche's name, above, you will be taken to a spectacularly interesting video taken during the 1960s. If you watch it all the way through, you will find some other, equally spectacular images.

Herewith is a very poor translation of a very great work. Henceforth, it will always be available to save you from popular delusions and the madness of crowds. If you take these words earnestly to heart, you need never be embarrassed when meeting a teacher who relies on the authenticity that comes from direct realization of the nature of mind. If you put these words into practice, mistaken guides will have no hold over you. If you practice perfectly, you will see your own faults and have no wish to see the faults of others, precisely as the prayers’ own entreaty indicates. Then, others will clearly see that you are the shining jewel of the Nyingma School: the holder of the lineage and the keeper of the samaya.

My beloved friend: make no mistake that this is the hour of darkness and we are set upon in every direction by specters of perverted view. Those who writhe in insecurity, born of reliance solely upon abstract authority, lash out in order to protect their own self-interest. Those who sell the Vajrayana, to maintain themselves in comfortable surroundings, even seek to hound the shawled practitioners from forest caves. Those whose language is harsh, and who are incapable of matching action to view, dishonor the sacrifice of dead bodhisattvas. Those, who believe their own instability is a closely guarded secret, continue to deceive themselves in the hope they may continue to depend upon credulous sycophants. Sometimes, it seems justified to wail in anguish, and ask why the old grandfathers have left us alone in this strange world. So few…so very, very few… are those who can travel to the far-off places with only the welfare of others in mind. So few… so very, very few… are those with the courage to look at themselves and fearlessly add up the shortcomings.

Against all odds, I have found you. That it happened once is no guarantee it will happen again, as much as we might both earnestly wish. Death is a door in a wilderness of doors: you and I live in a wilderness of mirrors. To you, so supremely gifted, I give this admonition: time is far too precious to waste with mistaken approaches. If you are so fortunate as to have a plethora of diamonds, then by all means, pick the one that is flawless.

Dearest Rinpoche… may this find you in excellent health. I share it with others only because I know the generous nature of your heart and the things that might bring you pleasure on Dakini Day.

His Holiness Dudjom Rinpoche,
the Great Terton Jigdral Yeshe Dorje
Supreme Head of the Nyingma School of Tibetan Buddhism

I pay homage to the guru.

Shakyamuni, Victorious One.

Supreme guide of the realm for this fortunate aeon,

Sons of the Victorious one,

Assembly of noble Bodhisattvas who tame sentient beings,

Lord guru, matchless savior of beings in the dark age,

The three Roots and oath-bound Dharma guardians…

Again and again, I ask from my heart,

Recalling you with longing and one-pointed mind.

Please turn your attention toward me.

Take hold of me with your loving kindness

And with the power of your unhindered compassion

Grant your blessings that my thoughts and aims

be carried out in accord with Dharma.



Through past acts, not without merit,

I have obtained this precious human birth.

Through past merit, not slight,

I have met the sublime Dharma.

Accepted by the guru, I was able to obtain empowerments,

Blessings, and the essential instructions.

All this wealth I now hold in my hands.



But my mind, like a babbling monkey, falls under the sway

Of the enticing, deceptive demon of distraction

And I cannot take advantage of the wealth that is my own.

Thus, this free, well-favored human birth

And the lama's teaching are both wasted.



Now I am at a turning point:

All the teachings that I've asked for,

All I've received, are like a myth.

My body has the appearance of a practitioner,

And I have a practitioner's conceit;

My mind cannot fathom the true teachings.



Lacking even a trace of common Dharma, much less holy Dharma,

The sixteen rules for ordinary social behavior

Are just something that I've heard of.

Seeing myself behave badly, I'm without shame;

Seen by others, I'm unembarrassed;

My bond to the teachings is short as a marmot's tail.



Unable to practice properly true Dharma's ten virtuous deeds,

Harboring sectarian bias toward the one Buddha's teachings,

I slander the teachings and great beings

And gather up bad karma.

Based on Dharma

I carry a great weight of evil deeds.



The more teaching I've received,

The more my vision of myself inflates,

Though intellectual analyses cannot penetrate

The deep meaning of the teachings.



With conceit, I think, "I keep the Pratimoksha disciplines!"

But the four dharma practices have been lost without a trace.



With conceit, I think, "I posses the precious Bodhisattva training!"

But the Four Boundless Ones are just like pictures of a lamp.



With conceit, I think, "I keep the Secret Mantrayana samayas!"

But, not respecting the first root transgression,

I become careless about all the rest.



I can glibly explain the Four Thoughts That Turn the Mind to Dharma,

But my attachment to phenomena

Shows that my own mind has not truly changed.



Though I rely on a teacher, respect and devotion slowly ebb away;

Instead of having pure perception, I have wrong views,

And see the guru as my equal.



Love and respect toward my vajra friends weakens;

Unable to endure a few harsh words, I complain constantly.



Lacking thorough training in bodhicitta,

The love and compassion that comes about

From seeing all beings of the six realms as my parents

Disappears like mist.



Although I act as if I practice the paths of kyerim and dzogrim,

I cannot even cope with ordinary endless delusion.



I recognize that the ultimate teaching of sutra and tantra

Is emptiness, but can't make use of that recognition;

My mindstream stays hard as horn.



When I practice remaining in mind's true condition

I am without stability, yet I mouth off about the profound view

And toss cause and effect to the winds.



On the outside I can give a show of good behavior;

On the inside, desire, attachment, and greed rage like fire.



Though my body remains in isolated mountain retreat,

My mind wanders into town constantly, night and day.



Without enjoying a real measure of certainty in myself,

Thinking to act for other's benefit is just a fairytale.



Although it is impossible that the Three Jewels betray me,

Due to my weak devotion, I fear I will betray myself.



Thus, although I am without the wrong view

Of not believing in the teacher and the holy Dharma,

In these bad times we sentient beings

Are busily perfecting our bad karma,

Knowing, heedlessly, falling under the sway of unawareness;

Failing to maintain mindfulness, we suffer a great loss.



When I examine myself, I see

That everything I've done has only added on to my confusion,

That all my thinking has been stained

By the obscuring emotions and by grasping.

Not seeing that even my virtuous acts

Are polluted with negativities

Where else is there to end up but in the lower realms?

As for the way I behave and what I've done,

Bringing these to mind, I am sickened.

Looking to others, I am only more discouraged;

There are no friends to benefit and ease my mind.



If I cannot take care of myself now,

Others cannot give me refuge when hope is exhausted

And I'm in the hands of the messengers of the Lord of Death.

To wait for a rescue that can never come,

Isn't that self-deception?



Thus, with shame and remorse recognizing my own errors,

Whatever offenses against Dharma have occurred,

Whatever samaya transgressions and violations,

I won't try to conceal from those with wisdom vision.



From the bottom of my heart, I confess;

With your compassion, please endure me.

Be my refuge from the danger of the precipitous, errant path;

Grant the deliverance of finding the perfect, liberating path.



My whole life has been spent practicing this and practicing that

With nothing in my hands to show for it,

No attainment.



From now on, avoiding the miserable path of knowing much,

And missing the one thing I need

Why not go on the path of knowing the one thing that frees all?



Certain, unfailing hope, sole, supreme Lord upon whom I rely,

Root guru who combines all refuges in one,

I supplicate you with devotion and one pointed mind;

Supreme refuge, lord of greatest kindness,

Take hold of me with your compassion.



Grant your blessing that I am able to see my own faults.

Grant your blessing that I have no wish to see the faults of others.

Grant your blessing that evil, cruel, and vicious thoughts be pacified.

Grant your blessing that wholesome thoughts arise deep from within.

Grant your blessing that desire may lessen and contentment increase.

Grant your blessing that I remember the uncertainty of the time of death.

Grant your blessing that I be unconcerned at the time of death.

Grant your blessing that I develop trust in Dharma.

Grant your blessing that I practice impartial pure perception.

Grant your blessing that I develop unfabricated devotion and respect.

Grant your blessing that I persevere, seeing that I have so little time left.

Grant your blessing that I be able to establish Dharma as my ultimate innermost goal.

Grant your blessing that I free my mindstream the innermost practice.

Grant your blessing that I have no obstacles to practice

Grant your blessing that the fruit of my practice may ripen quickly.

Grant your blessing that all conduct with those with whom I have a karmic link may be meaningful.

Grant your blessing that the duality of hope and fear be extinguished.

Grant your blessing that I see nondual wakefulness.

Grant your blessing that I recognize my own innate wakefulness.

Grant your blessing that I hold the dharmakaya citadel.

Grant your blessing that I gain the great effortless certainty.



By means of the great weapon,

Indestructible primordial wakeful awareness,

May the void life-force of samsara and nirvana

Both be severed, at once.



Then, in the unending great bliss of Nyema's feast

May we always enjoy the activity

That is beyond joining and parting.



In the pervasive space of evenness,

Even the word "suffering" does not exist

So who ought to be striving for happiness?



In the Kingdom of Samantabhadra

Happiness and suffering are of one taste;

Without grasping, they liberate of themselves.


May I attain Samantabhadra's kingdom in this very life!

Farewell to the Desert

The rabbits gaze wistfully into the distance. The trailers and containers stand empty. The wind blows unobstructed across the dusty expanses, as it has done for centuries. Tenpa of the Mojave has officially moved away, lock, stock, and two empty barrels. I am gone from the high desert, bound for the bright lights of Los Angeles County. Contrary to all expectations, it seems we will winter at the beach of all places. Who would have thought? Here I was... all set for high altitudes and snow shovels... but the doctor says my old cowboy friend won't find that environment conducive to good health. Blasts of the winter ocean salt mist are better?

Oh, well... any fight, any mission, any time, any condition.

Traveling Light

As promised, the ancient lakes are filled with water again, and today is a day of rainbows in the desert. While it seems inappropriate to look back, I nevertheless suddenly remember a poem I wrote five years ago:

The Symbol Is Dissolved

By an early autumn morning’s rainbows
reprised in the rainbows
of midsummer’s late afternoon—
one in perfect happiness,
the other in perfect sorrow—
so comes from the remembered valley
on the whispered prayer of sunlight,
a dream, declared to River Sky
in which there is no shadow’s slippery promise:
where I first beheld her
and behold, beneath her,
struggling from the water into a cloud,
the purple basilisk that comes but once
before the symbol is dissolved.

Copyright (c) 2003 by Tulku Urgyan Tenpa Rinpoche. All rights reserved.

Forms Separated from Names

We imagine there are perilous roads to places of wonder and beauty because we divide our reason and fragment our sight.

These roads are neither perilous nor safe; these places are neither beautiful nor otherwise. If these things are said to "be" anything at all, then let us merely call them "temporary" and leave it at that.

As night falls, the ancient lakes come alive, replenished by light and the absence of light. Ubiquitous forms that seem to decorate the day are revealed as vowels and consonants of one primal language earth uses to communicate with sky. The purpose of forms become separated from the names we give them. The symbols dissolve.

Maybe you saw the setting sun turn the rocks to gold.

Maybe I saw something else.

Dharma Without Diplomas

The great Vidyadhara Chogyam Trungpa Rinpoche introduces us to what he calls "Buddhadharma without Credentials." We can easily find this in his Collected Works---I think in Volume II---where it occupies all of two pages, but a flawless diamond is a flawless diamond, no matter its size or setting.

The thesis is that illusion uses seeming existence as "credentials" in order to maintain or validate itself. The thesis is simple enough, but Trungpa employs it focally to explain common foibles of sangha, and in so doing exposes another layer of usefulness. He explains, "Thus, if a person is self-righteously claiming to practice the buddhadharma, [and] is using his practice as credentials, then he is simply playing ego's game." He goes on to state, "If a group of people do this together, then they reinforce each other in the same game. Inevitably they will pick a leader. Then the leader will have as his credentials the title "head of the flock." The members of the flock will have as their credentials the title 'member of such-and-such organization.' The leader and his flock reinforce each other's identities."

The Vidyadhara explains that this collective ego will be on the constant prowl for new ways of self-confirmation, and-- he says directly--- this may even extend to our perceptions of lineage, and how we emulate the teachings of great masters. "But," warns the Vidyadhara, "it will be a prostitution of those teachings." He describes what he refers to as an "ever-escalating game of one-upsmanship," pointing out that this can involve collecting endorsements, validations, certificates, ambitious projects, and so forth, eventually degenerating into something like a cult.

Thankfully, there eventually comes a point when everything that relies on the existence of credentials becomes wholly irrelevant: things becomes sufficient proof of themselves, of their own accord, with nothing external being required.

The Vidyadhara concludes his comments by saying, "The Dharma does not demand rigidity, [or] adherence to external ideals. If a teacher understands this, he needs no confirmation from his students. The turning of the wheel of dharma will be a mutual creation on the part of student and teacher." [emphasis added]

This is a tremendously liberating concept for both the teacher and the students to contemplate. Fundamentally, this is the utter honesty of self-arising things as they are, freed from neurotic labels, structures, or intellectual dilation. It suddenly becomes perfectly alright to be exactly who you are, to see what you see, and think what you think. You no longer have to limit yourself to an abstract dance of stages and levels, or certificates, or the poison of seeming approval versus disapproval. You no longer have to limit yourself to "belonging" to this or that... friends with the one, enemies with the other... to rivalries, to contests, to the great neurotic dichotomy of samsara versus nirvana.

The Vidyadhara's advice was given in the context of an admonition to Westerners, and may have been something of a reaction to the diplomas one sees on the walls of a law office, for example. He once remarked that these are no guarantee of common sense, and this is something we can all appreciate. However, his words had the greatest impact upon the up and coming generation of Tibetan teachers---the majority of whom regard Trungpa Rinpoche's writings as a "must read" proposition. In the West, we often like to think that the Vidyadhara "belonged" to us, but actually, his most profound influence takes place within his own tradition, among other Tibetan tulkus.

Was Buddha himself a Buddhist? That's an interesting question, which puts one in mind of the often-invoked circumstance wherein the Buddha is allegedly asked whether he is a man or a god, and replies, "I am awake."