The dictionary definition of reincarnation is “the rebirth of a soul in a new body.” People who don’t believe in a soul, who think that when you die you disintegrate like a dandelion or evaporate like steam on pavement, cannot accept that once upon a time they were chickens who were eaten by a friend in a past life. And for those who do believe in a soul that continues on after the physical body dies, it’s a challenge to accept rebirth as it is taught in Hinduism and Buddhism.
Then there are people who are open to the idea of reincarnation but, because they have been raised in an Abrahamic religion, or at least were steeped in that culture, it doesn’t come as easy as it does to someone raised in India, for example. Even I—born and raised in a society that steadfastly and wholeheartedly lives by the theory and laws of reincarnation and karma—have some difficulty. It’s not that I have a problem believing in reincarnation itself; through my lifetime of study and analysis of Buddhism, especially the Buddhist teachings on relative truth, I have come to an understanding and belief in reincarnation that is not unlike Steven Hawking’s belief in the Big Bang. They are equally intangible, difficult to prove, very practical, utterly relative, and squarely within the sphere of highly educated assumptions. But I have a problem believing I am a reincarnation of this amazing being, Jamyang Khyentse Chökyi Lodrö, who, in turn, was an incarnation of Jamyang Khyentse Wangpo.
Jamyang Khyentse Chökyi Lodrö not only remembered his immediate predecessor, Jamyang Khyentse Wangpo, he even had memories of being Jigme Lingpa, his predecessor’s predecessor. He told these memories to Kyabje Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche, the most sane and legitimate possible confidante. Kyabje Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche later included them in his biography of Jamyang Khyentse Chökyi Lodrö. Many people who met both Jamyang Khyentse Chökyi Lodrö and Jamyang Khyentse Wangpo said that Chökyi Lodrö’s style—what he did, what he prioritized, how he acted—was almost identical to that of Jamyang Khyentse Wangpo, as if they had come from the same mold.
Although sentient beings around the time of 1961 had the merit and karma to witness a man sent into outer space, they must not have had sufficient merit for a true reincarnation of Dzongsar Jamyang Khyentse to appear, one who could seamlessly continue his past life, like Chökyi Lodrö did. Kyabje Sakya Trizin often says that when Jamyang Khyentse Wangpo passed, it was as if he walked out of the bedroom and by the time he entered the living room, he was Chökyi Lodrö. Obviously Khyentse Chökyi Lodrö’s disciples, Kyabje Dilgo Khyentse, Kyabje Sakya Trizin, Shechen Kongtrul, Shechen Gyaltsab, Kathok Situ Rinpoche, Dezhung Rinpoche, and many others, had so much merit. 
The power of collective karma is inescapable. For example, many North Koreans have the collective karma to have been ruled by three generations of Supreme Leaders, whom they revere and sing about, quoting slogans like “Let this socialist country resound with Song of Big Fish Haul and be permeated with the fragrant smell of fish and other seafoods!” Meanwhile in another socialist country, people have the collective karma to be sucked into believing in the value of Versace. And so many people all over the world have the collective karma to be trapped wasting all their precious time browsing the web, staring at their screens until they get phone tans.
Likewise, it is the collective merit and karma of my so-called students—who are basically nothing more than my victims—that led to this present situation of me being labeled Dzongsar Khyentse. How else can one explain all these Oxford and Ivy League graduates with triple degrees and excellent critical thinking skills giving up their jobs, going through hell convincing their spouses and bosses, and laminating condoms, just to follow me around?
Karmic influence is nothing new. In the 5th century BCE, Ananda had the merit to recognize his own cousin Siddhartha as the Buddha, while his other cousin Devadatta, just never managed to get beyond seeing him as ordinary. And in 1966, Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche had the merit to see me, even as a child sitting on his lap, as his guru Khyentse Chökyi Lodrö. But not only don’t I have the merit to see myself as Khyentse Chökyi Lodrö, I have a really hard time seeing the present Khyentse Yangsi as Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche, at the very least because when I think of my guru I am still bound by things like shape and size.
When I was young, someone gave me a toy watch and it made me happy for a long time. It didn’t function at all but it made my day. I wore it for a long time. One of the rare times I ever broke down and cried was when one of the hands fell off. I finally drew it back on with a pen and kept wearing the watch. Somehow this toy watch worked to satisfy me, it cheered me up and calmed me down. Likewise, so many people have to settle with me as a facsimile. The people who were responsible for labeling me as the incarnation of Jamyang Khyentse Chökyi Lodrö must have chosen me in the spirit of, “Since sentient beings don’t have merit for the real McCoy to teach them, this facsimile will have to do.”
The main person responsible for labeling me as Jamyang Khyentse Chökyi Lodrö was Kyabje Sakya Trizin, who was only 14 years old when Khyentse Chökyi Lodrö passed away. I was told that after Chökyi Lodrö died, almost every known master from three of the four main schools of Tibetan Buddhism (Nyingma, Kagyu, and Sakya) was involved in the funeral rites and pujas that took place in Tashiding. Nearly all of them had received teachings from Khyentse Chökyi Lodrö at some point. When the main business of the cremation was settled, his senior students all remained in Tashiding to tackle their next big task: finding the incarnation of their guru.
Tashiding Monastery is on a very holy heart-shaped mountain in West Sikkim and is the most important place in Sikkim related to Guru Padmasambhava. The group that gathered there included not only Chökyi Lodrö’s senior students, but all the members of the Khyentse Labrang—Kyabje Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche, Khandro Tshering Chödrön, Changdzöd Tshering Peljor, and several others. It was Kyabje Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche who strongly voiced the opinion that Kyabje Sakya Trizin should make the final decision about the tulku. I think this raised some eyebrows, because Sakya Trizin was just a cute boy with turquoise earrings at the time.
Sakya Trizin accepted this responsibility, but it took him a long time to identify a tulku. I can imagine the impatience and even doubt percolating among the students of Chökyi Lodrö. I guess for some people, seven years was a really long time to wait.
Tibetans like to gather in Bodhgaya in the winter for pilgrimage. When I was about a year old, I was brought by my grandparents to the Mahabodhi Temple for one of those winter gatherings. My sister said that this is customary, that Bhutanese and Tibetan grandparents often take children off their parents’ hands if there are more than two.
Impatience was in the air. For three years everyone had been waiting for a sign from Sakya Trizin and yet there had been no message. Kyabje Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche was in Bodhgaya doing his practice. When he saw me at the temple in my grandparents’ arms, he quietly summoned Chökyi Lodrö’s old attendant Tashi Namgyal and said “Look, look at that boy, I think that’s Chökyi Lodrö Rinpoche’s incarnation.” Tashi Namgyal really snapped at Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche. He was nervous because they had all agreed that it was Kyabje Sakya Trizin and only Kyabje Sakya Trizin who could make such a statement. He immediately told Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche to keep quiet about his thoughts because if something like this leaked out, it could create problems. Especially because Rinpoche himself had appointed Sakya Trizin to make the decision. This is exactly how the tulku business becomes complicated. In response, Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche said “If Sakya Trizin is omniscient, he will say the same thing.”
In 1966, Khyentse Chökyi Lodrö’s widow, Khandro Tshering Chödrön, was residing in the palace chapel in Gangtok, Sikkim, when she received a telegram from Kyabje Sakya Trizin, who was then 21 years old. It was a thin sheet of pink paper folded in three. The message was in English, full of the word “stop,” and declared that the second child and eldest son of Thinley Norbu was the incarnation of Jamyang Khyentse Chökyi Lodrö. It was then that I was given the official name Jamyang Thubthen Chökyi Gyatso, which means “Gentle Voice Ocean of Buddhadharma.”
