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Despu\u00e9s de apenas sobrevivir m\u00e1s de medio siglo de esta alucinaci\u00f3n de vida \u2013 habiendo conducido miles de millas por algunas de las carreteras m\u00e1s peligrosas en lugares como India y But\u00e1n, habiendo volado cientos de miles de millas alrededor del mundo en aviones de m\u00edrame y no me toques, habiendo comido qui\u00e9n sabe qu\u00e9 comidas callejeras en Bangkok o toxinas camufladas como t\u00e9 en el Hotel Pen\u00ednsula \u2013 he llegado a la conclusi\u00f3n de que ser capaz de llorar es un regalo.<\/p>\n
Ver las l\u00e1grimas, especialmente de los ni\u00f1os, y m\u00e1s si cabe de ni\u00f1as, se ha quedado grabado en mi conciencia por a\u00f1os. Una vez Claudia me estaba llevando en coche al aeropuerto de S\u00eddney y su hija Sachiko, que apenas ten\u00eda unos meses, estaba llorando por atenci\u00f3n en el asiento trasero. Pero no pod\u00edamos hacer nada porque est\u00e1bamos en medio de la autopista con mucho tr\u00e1fico. A veces esa escena a\u00fan me persigue. Espero que el miedo al abandono no se quedara grabado en ella ese d\u00eda.<\/p>\n
En el entorno que crec\u00ed, los ni\u00f1os que no lloraban eran felicitados por los adultos. As\u00ed que llegu\u00e9 a estar orgulloso de poder reprimir mis sentimientos y no ser un blando. No derram\u00e9 ni una l\u00e1grima cuando me llevaron desde casa de mis abuelos al internado. Incluso ese crucial d\u00eda no mucho despu\u00e9s, cuando me sacaron de la escuela y de mi casa para siempre, control\u00e9 mis l\u00e1grimas, aunque me cost\u00f3 lo suyo. Ese d\u00eda, tuve que decir adi\u00f3s a mis abuelos maternos, quienes me hab\u00edan criado, y marcharme a Sikkim, que estaba m\u00e1s lejos de lo que yo pudiera imaginar. No hubo menci\u00f3n alguna de regresar. Sikkim no est\u00e1 geogr\u00e1ficamente tan lejos del este de But\u00e1n, pero las distancias, alturas y tiempos son relativos y variables dependiendo de la perspectiva cambiante de cada uno. Desde el punto de vista de un ni\u00f1o de cinco a\u00f1os, no hab\u00eda podido estar m\u00e1s lejos.<\/p>\n
Hab\u00eda o\u00eddo hablar a la gente de lugares como Sikkim y Nepal, pero nunca se me ocurri\u00f3 que yo tendr\u00eda la oportunidad de ir. Muy raramente un avi\u00f3n nos sobrevolaba y todos se apresuraban a salir a verlo. Se quedaban afuera incluso cuando el avi\u00f3n ya hab\u00eda pasado, mirando los rastros blancos a trav\u00e9s del cielo. Y durante d\u00edas habl\u00e1bamos de c\u00f3mo ser\u00eda estar ah\u00ed arriba. Yo supuse que nunca tendr\u00eda la oportunidad de volar ya que eso era para gente importante y rica. Una vez vino un familiar y asegur\u00f3 que hab\u00eda volado en avi\u00f3n. Nos cont\u00f3 su historia en la cocina a la hora de cenar donde todos com\u00edamos alrededor del fog\u00f3n, y no fui yo el \u00fanico que estaba hipnotizado, incluso los adultos escuchaban atentamente. Noche tras noche este familiar sigui\u00f3 cont\u00e1ndonos su experiencia en los cielos.<\/p>\n
De todas formas, cuando lleg\u00f3 el d\u00eda de irme a esa tierra distante llamada Sikkim, por carretera, eso s\u00ed, mi abuela no pudo controlar sus l\u00e1grimas. Recuerdo a mi abuelo rega\u00f1\u00e1ndola porque, seg\u00fan \u00e9l, la muestra de sentimientos era algo poco propicio. Ver a un adulto llorar, especialmente cuando era alguien a quien yo respetaba mucho, debi\u00f3 dejar una fuerte impresi\u00f3n en m\u00ed porque es uno de los pocos recuerdos que tengo de mi abuela.<\/p>\n
M\u00e1s tarde me di cuenta de que hay muchas razones por las que la gente llora, incluso las personas que m\u00e1s respeto en este mundo, no s\u00f3lo cuando est\u00e1n tristes o asustados.<\/p>\n
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Tengo una memoria borrosa y fragmentada de sonido de altavoces la primera vez que conoc\u00ed a Kyabje Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoch\u00e9. Ten\u00eda menos de un a\u00f1o y me hab\u00edan llevado a Darjeeling, donde mi abuelo paterno Kyabje Dudjom Rinpoch\u00e9 estaba dando la transmisi\u00f3n del Kangyur [1]. Para dar la transmisi\u00f3n ten\u00eda que leer unas 70.000 p\u00e1ginas del texto en voz alta, lo cual lleva varios meses. Probablemente el mayor logro de la civilizaci\u00f3n tibetana es haber conseguido traducir, preservar, transmitir continuamente, y ense\u00f1ar el Kangyur. M\u00e1s tarde me enter\u00e9 de que fue mi abuelo el que insisti\u00f3 en que yo recibiera esta transmisi\u00f3n incluso siendo s\u00f3lo un beb\u00e9. Y no s\u00f3lo algunas partes; le dijo a mi madre que no me dejara dormir en ning\u00fan momento. Si echaba una cabezada o me pon\u00eda quisquilloso, paraba la transmisi\u00f3n para darme algo dulce y que as\u00ed no me perdiera una sola palabra. A\u00f1os despu\u00e9s algunas personas usaron este hecho para manipularme y que as\u00ed yo diera la transmisi\u00f3n del Kangyur. Y as\u00ed lo hice, dolorosamente, en Chauntra en Dzongsar Shedra, lo cual da\u00f1\u00f3 mi vista permanentemente.<\/p>\n
Fue all\u00ed que Kyabje Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoch\u00e9 vino a recibir parte de la transmisi\u00f3n de Dudjom Rinpoch\u00e9 y tuve mi primer encuentro con \u00e9l. Tengo la clara memoria de sentirme atra\u00eddo hacia un hombre sentado en un trono, que claramente no era mi abuelo. Insist\u00ed en acercarme a Rinpoch\u00e9. Esto fue confirmado m\u00e1s tarde por mi t\u00eda, quien me dijo que aunque era muy peque\u00f1o estaba muy concentrado en Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoch\u00e9.
![\"khandro\"](\"http:\/\/mugwortborn.wpengine.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/04\/khandro-290x300.jpg\")
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La segunda vez que estuve con Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoch\u00e9 est\u00e1 mucho m\u00e1s clara en mi mente. Ten\u00eda cinco a\u00f1os, justo despu\u00e9s de dejar a mis abuelos, y de camino a Khyentse Labrang en el palacio de Gangtok \u2013 tambi\u00e9n conocido como Tsuklakhang o el Palacio Capilla \u2013 en Sikkim, donde estaba a punto de ser entronizado como un tulku de Dzongsar Khyentse Ch\u00f6kyi Lodr\u00f6 y donde residir\u00eda por muchos de los a\u00f1os venideros. El espacio para el labrang hab\u00eda sido ofrecido generosamente a Khyentse Ch\u00f6kyi Lodr\u00f6 por el Rey de Sikkim, Tashi Namgyal y su hijo el entonces pr\u00edncipe heredero Palden Thondup Namgyel, a finales de los a\u00f1os 50. Khandro Tshering Ch\u00f6dr\u00f6n hab\u00eda estado residiendo en el Tsuklakhang desde entonces.<\/p>\n
Nuestro grupo viaj\u00f3 desde But\u00e1n en un destartalado jeep Mahindra. Me sent\u00eda como un hombre de verdad porque no hab\u00eda llorado al decir adi\u00f3s a la vida que hab\u00eda conocido hasta entonces. Estaba ansioso. Cuando llegamos a la intersecci\u00f3n de Singtam, hab\u00eda un grupo grande de gente para recibirme. Mis asistentes y el conductor del coche se pusieron nerviosos y agitados, subiendo las ventanillas. Alguien dijo, \u201cKyabje Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoch\u00e9 est\u00e1 aqu\u00ed para recibirte.\u201d Cuando el jeep desaceler\u00f3 entre la multitud de gente con katas en sus manos, vi a Rinpoch\u00e9 de pie entre remolinos de nubes de ofrendas de humo. Era sumamente alto y en cierto modo delgado, no tan grande como llegar\u00eda a ponerse un d\u00eda, y estaba vestido con un elegante h\u00e1bito. Me dijeron m\u00e1s tarde que nadie lo hab\u00eda visto nunca en semejante h\u00e1bito y algunos incluso sospechaban que hab\u00eda pedido ropa prestada para la recepci\u00f3n porque era bastante pobre por aquellos tiempos.<\/p>\n
![\"greeting\"](\"http:\/\/mugwortborn.wpengine.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/04\/greeting-300x237.jpg\")
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Yo era s\u00f3lo un ni\u00f1o pero Rinpoch\u00e9 me trat\u00f3 con todo respeto. Se ofrecieron arroz ceremonial con azafr\u00e1n y t\u00e9 con mantequilla, y luego lleg\u00f3 el momento de seguir hacia Gangtok. Tuve que cambiar de nuestro polvoriento jeep a un bonito sedan blanco europeo. Esa fue la primera vez que me mont\u00e9 en un coche hecho en Europa. Kyabje Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoch\u00e9 entr\u00f3 primero y me sentaron en su regazo.<\/p>\n
As\u00ed fue como empez\u00f3 todo. Fueron casi dos horas de viaje en coche y Khyentse Rinpoch\u00e9 llor\u00f3 como un ni\u00f1o todo el camino, este gigante que era tan respetado por todos se deshizo en l\u00e1grimas por completo. A\u00f1os despu\u00e9s, o\u00ed que le hab\u00eda dicho a la gente que desde el momento en que me vi\u00f3 en Singtam hasta que llegu\u00e9 al palacio, el sinti\u00f3 la presencia de Khyentse Ch\u00f6kyi Lodr\u00f6 completamente, claramente, como si nada hubiera cambiado, y no pudo evitarlo.<\/p>\n
No mucho despu\u00e9s de eso, Kyabje Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoch\u00e9 empez\u00f3 a ense\u00f1ar y dar iniciaciones. En Tashiding, oeste de Sikkim, dio una ense\u00f1anza tesoro muy importante del ciclo de Lama Gongdu. Una vez m\u00e1s, observ\u00e9 con asombro c\u00f3mo de repente se puso a llorar en medio de las ense\u00f1anzas. Llam\u00f3 a su asistente \u2013 hab\u00eda uno que se llamaba Shedrup \u2013 que tambi\u00e9n estaba llorando. Inmediatamente trajo un pa\u00f1uelo muy largo, que Kyabje Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoch\u00e9 puso sobre mi cuello.<\/p>\n
Normalmente, Rinpoch\u00e9 era como una monta\u00f1a, nada lo mov\u00eda, nada lo hac\u00eda ponerse nervioso. Era la \u00faltima persona que imaginar\u00edas llorando. Era un hombre, que med\u00eda seis pies y once pulgadas, con la sangre y los huesos de algunos de los guerreros m\u00e1s c\u00e9lebres de Kham, este del T\u00edbet, sus abuelos eran ministros del Rey de Derge. Hered\u00f3 su valent\u00eda y elegancia y era muy majestuoso, no hay forma de que podamos dejar de hablar de sus incre\u00edbles cualidades. Pero puedo recordar unas cuantas ocasiones en las que v\u00ed a Rinpoch\u00e9 llorando, algunas de ellas incluso rompiendo en llanto y gimiendo como un ni\u00f1o, llorando desconsoladamente. Tambi\u00e9n era capaz de exhibir una alegr\u00eda inmensa, m\u00e1s all\u00e1 de nada que yo haya visto.<\/p>\n
Cuando era un poco m\u00e1s mayor, Rinpoch\u00e9 invit\u00f3 a un grupo de nosotros a T\u00edbet, incluyendo a Rabjam Rinpoch\u00e9, Tulku Pema Wangyal, y muchos m\u00e1s. Fuimos al monasterio de Gonchen, tambi\u00e9n conocido como el monasterio de Derge, un templo Sakyapa fundado por Thangtong Gyalpo en T\u00edbet. Era la segunda visita de Kyabje Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoch\u00e9 a T\u00edbet desde que la Guardia Roja destruy\u00f3 los monasterios durante la Revoluci\u00f3n Cultural. China estaba justo empezando a cambiar sus reglas de fe y pr\u00e1ctica, pero muchos de estos monasterios estaban en estado de ruina completa. Cuando llegamos, muchos, muchos tibetanos vinieron a vernos.<\/p>\n
Un d\u00eda, un hombre joven normal y corriente vino y de su bolsa de aspecto rudo, ofreci\u00f3 una estatua de tres pulgadas de Manjushri a Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoch\u00e9. A m\u00ed me pareci\u00f3 una estatua normal y corriente pero Rinpoch\u00e9 inmediatamente la reconoci\u00f3 como el objeto de pr\u00e1ctica que perteneci\u00f3 a Mipham Rinpoch\u00e9. Llor\u00f3 por un buen rato \u2013 lo que pareci\u00f3 una eternidad \u2013 mientras todos nos quedamos sin habla. Se comport\u00f3 como si alguien le hubiera dado un Manjushri de carne y hueso. Y no tengo ninguna duda de que esa es la forma en la que lo hubiera percibido.<\/p>\n
Rinpoch\u00e9 segu\u00eda poniendo la estatua en la mesa y mir\u00e1ndola, luego la levantaba una otra y vez. Y se pon\u00eda a llorar otra vez. Se la pon\u00eda sobre su cabeza y en su coraz\u00f3n, estaba que no cab\u00eda en s\u00ed. Llam\u00f3 a Tulku Pema Wangyal Rinpoch\u00e9 para recompensar al joven y creo que Rinpoch\u00e9 le dio una cantidad significante de dinero aunque el joven ni siquiera estaba pidiendo nada a cambio.<\/p>\n
Como seguidores de Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoch\u00e9, por supuesto rendimos homenaje a Mipham Rinpoch\u00e9 y Manjushri, pero nuestra devoci\u00f3n era muy eventual. Nuestra actitud era venerar porque se supon\u00eda<\/em> que deb\u00edamos venerar. Nunca hab\u00edamos sido testigos de esta alegr\u00eda tan profunda que Rinpoch\u00e9 estaba demostrando, ni mucho menos la hab\u00edamos experimentado por nosotros mismos. Yo estaba asombrado, no es com\u00fan ver tales cosas. Ahora me doy cuenta que al presenciar a un verdadero guerrero, un gigante imponente, llorando, presenci\u00e9 la personificaci\u00f3n de la valent\u00eda.<\/p>\n Tal vez un poco desconcertado y sin saber qu\u00e9 hacer, me puse de rodillas y le dije que me compromet\u00eda a ofrecer 100.000 velas a esta estatua de Majushri. Rinpoch\u00e9 dijo inmediatamente, \u201cVas a ser muy erudito por las bendiciones de Manjushri.\u201d<\/p>\n Pasaron muchos a\u00f1os. Me dej\u00e9 llevar por la pereza y las distracciones, y nunca llegu\u00e9 a hacer la ofrenda de velas mientras a\u00fan estaba vivo. Rinpoch\u00e9 falleci\u00f3 en 1991. Durante el entronizamiento del actual Yangsi Rinpoch\u00e9, Rabjam Rinpoch\u00e9 me pidi\u00f3 que diera unas transmisiones a los j\u00f3venes tulkus de los escritos de Kyabje Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoch\u00e9 y, en efecto, cuando estaba leyendo su sadhana de alabanza y ofrenda a Manjushri, en el colof\u00f3n me encontr\u00e9 a m\u00ed mismo leyendo en voz alta un pasaje que dice, \u201cCuando Yangsi Thubthen Ch\u00f6kyi Gyatso (as\u00ed es como \u00e9l se refer\u00eda a m\u00ed) ofreci\u00f3 100.000 velas a Manjushri, pens\u00e9 que esto ser\u00eda de gran beneficio.\u201d Estaba leyendo el lung<\/em> a trav\u00e9s de unos altavoces y aunque estaba tan acostumbrado a no llorar, mis sentimientos fueron tan grandes que las l\u00e1grimas me brotaron de los ojos. Tuve que fingir que ten\u00eda que sonarme la nariz y toser. Mi reacci\u00f3n inmediata fue esconderlo.<\/p>\n Tan pronto como termin\u00e9 con la transmisi\u00f3n, inmediatamente ped\u00ed suficiente mantequilla del T\u00edbet para hacer 100.000 ofrendas. A partir de entonces, siempre que tengo la ocasi\u00f3n hago 100.000 ofrecimientos de mandala y 100.000 ofrecimientos de luz a esta gran estatua de Manjushri que a\u00fan se mantiene en el Jnanasattva de la estupa de Kyabje Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoch\u00e9 en el Monasterio de Shechen en Nepal.<\/p>\n Dilgo Khyentse Yangsi Rinpoch\u00e9 ha estado entronizado por varios a\u00f1os. Aspiro a ver a Rinpoch\u00e9 de la misma forma que Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoch\u00e9 me vio a m\u00ed. Es incomprensible tener a alguien que no cabe en s\u00ed por cosas tan peque\u00f1as, un ni\u00f1o y una estatua.<\/p>\n [1] la colecci\u00f3n completa de las palabras de Buda<\/p>\n [\/et_pb_text][et_pb_divider _builder_version=\u00bb4.4.8″ custom_margin=\u00bb||0px||false|false\u00bb custom_padding=\u00bb0px||||false|false\u00bb][\/et_pb_divider][et_pb_post_nav _builder_version=\u00bb4.4.8″ min_height=\u00bb55px\u00bb custom_margin=\u00bb|-100px||-100px|false|true\u00bb custom_padding=\u00bb|0px||||\u00bb border_color_all=\u00bbrgba(0,0,0,0)\u00bb][\/et_pb_post_nav][et_pb_comments _builder_version=\u00bb4.4.8″][\/et_pb_comments][\/et_pb_column][\/et_pb_row][\/et_pb_section]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Despu\u00e9s de apenas sobrevivir m\u00e1s de medio siglo de esta alucinaci\u00f3n de vida \u2013 habiendo conducido miles de millas por algunas de las carreteras m\u00e1s peligrosas en lugares como India y But\u00e1n, habiendo volado cientos de miles de millas alrededor del mundo en aviones de m\u00edrame y no me toques, habiendo comido qui\u00e9n sabe qu\u00e9 […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":452,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"_et_pb_use_builder":"on","_et_pb_old_content":"After barely surviving more than half a century of this hallucination of life\u2014having driven thousands of miles on some of the most treacherous roads in places like India and Bhutan, having flown hundreds of thousands of miles around the world in flimsy airplanes, having eaten who knows what kind of food from vendors in Bangkok or toxins camouflaged as high tea at the Peninsula hotel\u2014I have come to realize that being able to cry is a gift.\r\n\r\nThe sight of tears, especially those of children, and especially of girls, remains in my consciousness for years. Once Claudia was driving me to Sydney airport and her daughter Sachiko, barely a few months old, was crying for attention in the back seat. But we couldn't do anything because we were on the busy highway. Sometimes that scene still comes back to haunt me. I hope a fear of abandonment was not engrained in her that day.\r\n\r\nIn the environment I was raised, children who didn't cry were praised by adults. So I became proud of keeping it in and not being a sissy. I didn't shed a tear when I was taken away from my grandparents to boarding school. Even on the momentous day not long afterwards, when I was taken away from school and home forever, I controlled my tears, although it took some effort. On that day, I had to say goodbye to my maternal grandparents who had raised me and leave for Sikkim, which was farther away than I could imagine. There was no mention of ever returning. Sikkim is not geographically that far away from eastern Bhutan, but distance, height, and time are all relative and changeable depending on one's changing perspective. From the point of view of a child of five, it could not have been farther.\r\n\r\nI had heard people talk about places like Sikkim and Nepal but it never occurred to me that I would have an opportunity to go myself. Once in a blue moon an airplane would fly overhead and everyone would scramble outside to stare. They would stay a long time after the plane had passed, watching the white trails cross the sky. And for days we would talk about what it must be like up there. I assumed I would never have the opportunity to fly because it was for important, rich people. Once a family member came and claimed he'd taken a flight. He told his tale at dinner time in the kitchen where we all ate around the hearth, and it wasn't just me who was mesmerized, even the adults listened intently. Night after night this relative recounted his experience in the sky.\r\n\r\nAnyway, when the day came that I was going to this distant land called Sikkim, by road, mind you, my grandmother could not control her tears. I remember my grandfather scolding her because, he said, her display of emotion was inauspicious. To see an adult crying, especially when it was someone I respected very much, must have made a strong impression on me because it is the strongest of the few memories I have of my grandmother.\r\n\r\nLater I realized there are so many reasons people cry, including the people I respect most in this world, not just when they are sad or afraid.\r\n\r\nI have a hazy, fragmented memory of loudspeakers from the first time I met Kyabje Dilgo ![\"for](\"http:\/\/mugwortborn.wpengine.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/04\/for-obama-1024x768.jpg\")
<\/p>\n![\"dudjom\"](\"https:\/\/mugwortborn.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/04\/dudjom-254x300.jpeg\")
Khyentse Rinpoche. I was less than one year old and I had been taken to Darjeeling, where my paternal grandfather Kyabje Dudjom Rinpoche was giving the transmission of the Kangyur[1]<\/sup><\/a>. To give the transmission he had to read about 70,000 pages of text aloud, which takes many months. Probably the greatest thing the Tibetan civilization ever achieved was to translate, preserve, continuously transmit, and teach the Kangyur. I later learned that it was my grandfather who insisted I receive this transmission even though I was just a baby. And not just some parts of it; he told my mother not to let me sleep even for a moment. If I dozed off or got fussy, he would stop the transmission to give me sweets so that I wouldn\u2019t miss a single word. Years later people used this fact to manipulate me into giving the Kangyur transmission myself. And I did so, painfully, in Chauntra at Dzongsar Shedra, which permanently damaged my eyesight.\r\n\r\nIt was there that Kyabje Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche came to receive part of the transmission from Kyabje Dudjom Rinpoche and I had my first encounter with him. I have a distinct memory of being drawn to a man seated on a throne, clearly not my grandfather. I insisted on approaching Rinpoche. This was later confirmed by my auntie, who told me that even though I was so young I was very focused on Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche.\r\n\r\nThe second time I met Kyabje Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche is much more clear in my mind. I was ![\"khandro\"](\"https:\/\/mugwortborn.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/04\/khandro-290x300.jpg\")
five years old, just after I had left my grandparents, and on my way to the Khyentse Labrang at Gangtok Palace\u2014also known as Tsuklakhang or the Palace Chapel\u2014in Sikkim, where I was about to be enthroned as a tulku of Dzongsar Khyentse Ch\u00f6kyi Lodr\u00f6 and where I would reside for many years to come. The space for the labrang had been generously offered to Khyentse Ch\u00f6kyi Lodro by the King of Sikkim, Tashi Namgyal and his son the then crown prince Palden Thondup Namgyel, in the late 1950s. Khandro Tshering Ch\u00f6dr\u00f6n had been residing at the Tsuklakhang since then.\r\n\r\nOur group travelled from Bhutan in a dilapidated Mahindra jeep. I was feeling like a real man because I hadn\u2019t cried when saying goodbye to my life as I had known it. I was looking forward. When we reached a crossroads at Singtam, there was a large gathering of people there to receive me. My attendants and driver became flustered and nervous, rolling up the windows. Someone said, \u201cKyabje Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche is here to receive you.\u201d As the jeep slowed down amid crowds of people holding katas, I saw Rinpoche standing there in a cloud of swirling smoke offerings. He was extremely tall and somewhat slim, not as large as he would become one day, and he was dressed up in fine robes. I was told much later that no one had ever seen him in such a robe and some even suspected that he borrowed clothing for the reception because he was very poor at that time.\r\n\r\n![\"greeting\"](\"https:\/\/mugwortborn.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/04\/greeting-300x237.jpg\")
I was just a kid but Rinpoche treated me with complete respect. Ceremonial saffron rice and butter tea were offered, and then it was time to continue on to Gangtok. I was to shift from our dusty jeep into this beautiful white European sedan. This was the first time I\u2019d been in a European made car. Kyabje Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche got in first and I was placed on his lap.\r\n\r\nThat\u2019s when it started. It was almost a two hour drive and Khyentse Rinpoche wept like a child the entire way, this giant man who was so respected by everyone, completely dissolved in tears. Years later, I heard that he told people that from the moment of seeing me in Singtam until he reached the palace, he felt the presence of Khyentse Ch\u00f6kyi Lodr\u00f6 utterly, clearly, as if nothing had changed, and he couldn't help himself.\r\n\r\nNot long after that, Kyabje Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche began to teach and give initiations. In Tashiding, western Sikkim, he gave a very important treasure teaching of the Lama Gongdu cycle. Again, I watched in awe as he suddenly burst into tears in the middle of the teaching. He called for his attendant\u2014there was one named Shedrup\u2014who was also in tears. He immediately brought a very long scarf, which Kyabje Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche put around my neck.\r\n\r\nUsually, Rinpoche was like a mountain, nothing moved him, nothing made him flustered. He was the last person you'd expect to cry. This is a man, six feet, eleven inches tall, with the blood and bones of some of the most celebrated warriors of Kham, Eastern Tibet, his grandfathers were ministers of the King of Derge. He inherited their bravery and elegance and was just so majestic, we can never really finish talking about his amazing qualities. But I can remember a few other occasions of Rinpoche crying, sometimes even bursting out into tears and wailing like a child, really boo hoo-ing. He was also capable of exhibiting great joy, beyond anything I had seen.\r\n\r\nWhen I was a bit older, Rinpoche invited a group of us to Tibet, including Rabjam Rinpoche, Tulku Pema Wangyal, and many others. We went to Gonchen monastery, also known as Derge Monastery, a Sakyapa temple founded by Thangtong Gyalpo in Tibet. It was Kyabje Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche\u2019s second visit to Tibet since the Red Guard's destruction of the monasteries during the Cultural Revolution. China was just beginning to change its policies about faith and practice, but many of these monasteries were in a state of complete ruin. After we arrived, many, many Tibetans came to see us.\r\n\r\nOne day, a very ordinary looking young man came and from his rough looking bag, he offered a small three-inch statue of Manjushri to Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche. It looked like an ordinary statue to me but Rinpoche immediately recognized it as the practice object belonging to Mipham Rinpoche. He wept for a long time\u2014it felt like ages\u2014while we all sat speechless. He behaved as if someone had given him a real live Manjushri. And I have no doubt that that is how he must have perceived it.\r\n\r\nRinpoche kept placing the statue on the table and gazing at it, then picking it up again and again. And then he would burst out in tears again. He would put it on his head and on his heart, he was just so overjoyed. He summoned Tulku Pema Wangyal Rinpoche to reward this young man and I think Rinpoche gave him quite a significant amount of money even though he wasn\u2019t asking for it.\r\n\r\nAs followers of Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche, we of course paid homage to Mipham Rinpoche and Manjushri, but our devotion was very casual. Our attitude was to venerate because we were supposed<\/em> to venerate. We had never really witnessed this deep joy that Rinpoche was displaying, let alone experienced it for ourselves. I was astonished, it\u2019s not often that you see such a thing. I now realize by witnessing a real warrior, a larger than life giant, actually having tears, I had witnessed the embodiment of courage.\r\n\r\nMaybe a little bewildered and not knowing what to do, I knelt down and told him that I pledged to offer 100,000 butter lamps to this Manjushri statue. Rinpoche immediately said, \u201cYou will be very learned by the blessing of Manjushri.\u201d\r\n\r\nMany years passed. Carried away by laziness and distractions, I never actually made the lamp offerings while he was still living. Rinpoche passed away in 1991. During the enthronement of the present Yangsi Rinpoche, Rabjam Rinpoche asked me to give transmissions to the young tulkus from the writings of Kyabje Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche and, sure enough, as I was reading his sadhana in praise and offering to Manjushri, in the colophon I found myself reading aloud from a passage that said, \u201cWhen Yangsi Thubthen Ch\u00f6kyi Gyatso (this is how he referred to me) offered 100,000 butter lamps to Manjushri, I thought this would be of great benefit.\u201d I was reading the lung through a loudspeaker and though I was so conditioned to not cry, my feelings were so strong that tears came to my eyes. I had to pretend that I had to blow my nose and cough. My immediate reaction was to hide.\r\n\r\nAs soon as I was done with the transmission, I immediately ordered enough butter from Tibet to make 100,000 offerings. Thereafter, whenever I have a chance I make 100,000 mandala offerings and 100,000 light offerings to this great Manjushri statue that still is kept in the Jnanasattva of Kyabje Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche\u2019s stupa at Shechen Monastery in Nepal.\r\n\r\nDilgo Khyentse Yangsi Rinpoche has been enthroned for many years. I aspire to see him, Rinpoche, in the way that Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche saw me. It\u2019s unfathomable to have someone get so overjoyed by such small things, a boy and a statue.\r\n\r\n![\"for](\"https:\/\/mugwortborn.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/04\/for-obama-1024x768.jpg\")
\r\n\r\n[1]<\/sup><\/a> the complete collection of the words of the Buddha","_et_gb_content_width":"","footnotes":""},"project_category":[32],"project_tag":[],"class_list":["post-1223","project","type-project","status-publish","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","project_category-episodes-es"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/mugwortborn.com\/es\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/project\/1223","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/mugwortborn.com\/es\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/project"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/mugwortborn.com\/es\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/project"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mugwortborn.com\/es\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mugwortborn.com\/es\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1223"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/mugwortborn.com\/es\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/project\/1223\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mugwortborn.com\/es\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/452"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/mugwortborn.com\/es\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1223"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"project_category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mugwortborn.com\/es\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/project_category?post=1223"},{"taxonomy":"project_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mugwortborn.com\/es\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/project_tag?post=1223"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}