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\u00a0Berdebat<\/em><\/p><\/div><\/p>\n Aku belajar filsafat Buddhis selama hampir satu dekade di masa remajaku, walau begitu, aku mungkin belum belajar banyak. Aku menjadi orang yang berpikir sempit dengan mengagumi pikiran skeptis. Pendidikanku membuatku sombong dan membutakan persepsi murniku. Aku mulai mengidolakan orang-orang skeptis yang meragukan takhayul, berkah, dan devosi. Aku yakin jika saja aku tahu siapa Erich Fromm dan Nietzsche saat itu, mungkin aku akan menempatkan mereka di posisi yang sama dengan Sakyamuni.<\/p>\n Ketika aku belajar di perguruan tinggi Sakya, ayahku berulang kali memarahiku karena membuang waktu untuk semua logika dan filosofi ini. Aku tak mengerti. Ayah mana pun akan sangat senang memiliki seorang putra yang berusaha keras untuk belajar. Bertahun-tahun kemudian baru jelas bagiku: teguran ini datang dari seseorang yang paham kebutaan logika dan menghargai cita rasa praktik.<\/p>\n Jadi aku mengembangkan kebiasaan memandang rendah hal-hal yang tidak bisa dijelaskan dengan logika, syukurlah kebiasaan itu hilang, sebagian karena seekor tikus.<\/p>\n Labrang Bir Tua dalam tahap pembangunan. Foto oleh Mal Watson.<\/em><\/p><\/div>\n Pada tahun 1990, aku sedang berusaha membangun Dzongsar Shedra di Bir, India, yang kini telah bermetamorfosis menjadi Deer Park. Saat itu kami bisa dikatakan miskin; di satu titik aku hanya mempunyai satu lembar uang kertas hijau 5 rupee di dompetku. Kami bertahan hidup dengan jatah makanan yang disediakan pemerintah Amerika untuk pengungsi Tibet, sering kali jali-jali dan terkadang gandum. Jatah itu datang dalam karung-karung besar bergambar dua tangan saling berpegangan. Sepuluh karung jali-jali cukup untuk memberi makan 25 biksu kurang lebih untuk satu bulan. Ketika tidak ada uang untuk melanjutkan pembangunan, kami harus berhenti membangun dan menunggu sampai sejumlah dana terkumpul. Saat itu, aku mengandalkan sikap kuat “pasti ada jalan keluar”, sikap yang makin lemah seiring berjalannya waktu.<\/p>\n Sebenarnya ada baiknya ketika dana habis, karena aku bisa memanfaatkan waktu untuk retret. Suatu saat aku memutuskan untuk melakukan satu bulan retret yang didedikasikan untuk Lady Yeshe Tsogyal, pasangan Guru Rinpoche (yang oleh orang Tibet pada umumnya dan Nyingmapa khususnya mendapat penghormatan setara Guru Rinpoche dan Raja Trison Deutsen, atas semua yang telah beliau lakukan). Di akhir retret, aku sedang membersihkan altar dan terperanjat menemukan bahwa bagian belakang torma<\/em>[1] sudah dimakan tikus. Tikus yang terampil ini begitu sempurna dan presisi, membiarkan bagian depan torma tetap utuh sehingga aku tidak menyadarinya, meskipun aku telah memandangi torma itu selama sebulan penuh.<\/p>\n Foto oOrgyen Tobgyal Rinpoche oleh Dzongsar Khyentse Rinpoche.<\/em><\/p><\/div>\n Logikaku mengatakan itu hanya seekor tikus, ia membutuhkan makanan. Altarku berada di tempat terbuka, bukan di dalam lemari, jadi mengapa tidak? Namun kemudian Orgyen Tobgyal Rinpoche, raja para peramal, muncul dan menyampaikan ramalannya dan ketika aku memberitahu beliau bahwa tormaku dimakan tikus, beliau tidak bertele-tele. “Itu pertanda buruk,” geramnya. Beliau sangat lugas. Bahkan orang yang paling skeptis pun akan merasa bimbang menerima ramalan dari peramal gipsi yang begitu blak-blakan.<\/p>\n Dua hari kemudian, aku menerima telepon dari Bhutan dari Dasho Pema Wangchen, yang merupakan sekretaris pribadi Raja Bhutan ke-4. Saat itu, menerima telepon di Bir dari siapapun adalah hal yang sangat besar. Telepon hanya berdering sekitar tiga kali setahun. Untuk melakukan panggilan bahkan hanya ke Baijnath[2], Anda harus booking operator telepon beberapa jam sebelumnya untuk memesan sambungan. Belakangan, aku mengetahui bahwa orang-orang di Bhutan telah menominasi Dasho Pema Wangchen untuk meneleponku karena tidak ada orang lain yang berani menyampaikan pesan tersebut.<\/p>\n Suara Dasho sangat jelas di telepon dan apa yang dia katakan juga sangat jelas. \u201cIbumu meninggal.\u201d<\/p>\n Latihan Yeshe Tsogyal yang baru saja aku selesaikan dengan tormaku yang dimakan tikus itu adalah latihan utama dan mungkin satu-satunya latihan yang pernah dilakukan ibuku. Jadi pikiran skeptisku berubah saat itu juga. Sejak itu, aku menjadi orang yang percaya. Ini adalah salah satu perubahan terbesar yang pernah aku alami. Sekarang aku percaya takhayul tentang segala hal. Jika aku melihat seseorang membawa ember kosong ketika aku hendak bepergian, itu memengaruhiku. Dan ketika aku menyusuri jalanan sibuk di New York atau New Orleans, ketika aku melihat pembaca kartu tarot, paranormal, pembaca astrologi, aku dengan mudah percaya. Sisi positifnya, pada hari terakhir puja Tara 21 hari [di Chauntra tahun 2017], seorang anak memberiku sketsa Arya Tara miliknya. Namun ia menambahkan jenggot di wajah Tara sehingga lebih mirip Guru Rinpoche, saat itu pikiran kecilku gembira luar biasa. Aku pikir tentu saja Tara adalah Guru Rinpoche! Jadi di situlah aku sekarang, berkat tikus itu.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Sartre<\/em><\/p><\/div>\n Bertahun-tahun, aku telah bertemu individu-individu skeptis tertentu yang menganut rasionalitas dan logika serta menganggap diri mereka setajam elang. Namun bertahun-tahun kemudian, orang-orang yang sama terbaring di ranjang kematiannya dengan perasaan takut dan putus asa. Aku sangat penasaran bagaimana eksistensialis seperti Sartre dan Camus menghadapi momen kematian. Para kritikus ini tidak pernah menggunakan skeptisisme tajam yang mereka sukai untuk bersikap skeptis terhadap skeptisisme itu sendiri.<\/p>\n Berbeda dengan Buddha Sakyamuni, yang telah melampaui karma, dan dapat memilih Maya dan Suddhodana sebagai orang tua, kita sangat ditentukan oleh karma kita; kita tidak bisa memilih. Aku tidak memilih Thinley Norbu dan Jamyang Choden. Itu hanya masalah karma. Hanya karena seseorang adalah ibu atau ayah Anda, bukan berarti Anda menyayangi mereka dan begitu juga sebaliknya, namun fakta ini tidak menghentikan semua orang berpikir bahwa begitulah seharusnya – orang tua pasti mencintai anak dan anak pasti mencintai orang tua.<\/p>\n Separuh masalah keluarga di dunia berasal dari harapan yang tak perlu itu. Alih-alih mempercayai karma, mereka malah mempercayai anggapan bahwa orang tua harus menyayangi anaknya dan anak harus menyayangi orang tuanya. Satu-satunya manfaat dari asumsi ini hanyalah menyediakan lapangan kerja bagi begitu banyak terapis. Aku pun terperangkap oleh asumsi dan harapanku terhadap orang tuaku.<\/p>\n Kenangan tentang ibuku semakin berkembang seiring berjalannya waktu, terutama setelah beliau meninggal. Sejak berusia 8 tahun, aku hanya menghabiskan beberapa bulan bersamanya. Dan aku tentu saja tak ingat pernah pergi piknik keluarga. Menjadi rinpoche di generasi itu berarti diasingkan dari keluarga. Saat ini kehidupan para tulku didominasi oleh orang tua, mereka menghabiskan liburan bersama, bahkan tinggal bersama dan\u2014beruntungnya lagi\u2014mereka berkumpul merayakan Natal dan Thanksgiving. Tak pernah ada perayaan Thanksgiving atau reuni keluarga atau bahkan perayaan Tahun Baru di keluargaku. Belum pernah ada foto kami sekeluarga.<\/p>\n Aku tumbuh dalam masyarakat patriarki yang tak terlalu peduli terhadap hak-hak perempuan. Saat aku menjelajahi dunia di luar masyarakat tersebut, aku mulai menghargai perempuan dan menjadi salah satu orang yang menganggap bias gender bukanlah hal yang baik. Ibuku tak pernah diberi hak untuk mengambil keputusan tentangku. Bagaimana perasaannya ketika putra pertamanya, aku, direkrut menjadi tulku selamanya, sebuah pekerjaan yang tak punya pilihan untuk dipecat atau mengundurkan diri. Sangat gembira? Meskipun beliau tak akan pernah menentang penunjukkanku sebagai tulku dan tak menolak ketika aku dibawa pergi, beliau tak pernah diberi kesempatan untuk menyuarakan pendapatnya. Pada masa itu, orang tua tak punya hak suara atas para tulku. Anak begitu saja dibawa pergi.<\/p>\n Sedikit kenangan yang kumiliki adalah beliau hampir selalu sendirian. Ayahku hampir tak pernah ada. Beliau membesarkan dua anak bungsunya sendirian. Aku hanya bisa membayangkan bagaimana kehidupannya, dikelilingi oleh masyarakat yang punya konsep kuat tentang apa yang benar dan salah. Sebagai pendamping putra sulung Dudjom Rinpoche dan sebagai putri Lama Sonam Zangpo, beliau harus tahu menjaga laku\u2014tentu saja beliau tak pernah cenderung berperilaku buruk, itu bukan sifatnya.<\/p>\n Aum Kuenga<\/em><\/p><\/div>\n Beliau selalu berpakaian sederhana\u2014kira<\/em> Bhutan polos atau chuba<\/em> Tibet dengan warna kusam\u2014dan beliau sesungguhnya seorang penenun yang berbakat. Beliau sangat cakap, namun bakatnya tak pernah diberi kesempatan untuk berkembang dalam masyarakat yang didominasi laki-laki. Hanya satu yang beliau tenun untukku, sebuah bed cover, yang masih menjadi milikku. Pelayanku Ibu Phuntsok, Aum Kuenga adalah teman baiknya, dan sekarang setiap kali aku melihatnya, aku ingat ibuku.<\/p>\n Beliau wanita yang tidak banyak bicara, ini menjadi salah satu kualitasnya yang paling membuat takjub. Aku bertemu banyak orang yang lebih kagum pada ibu daripada ayah, meskipun ayahku mengunggulinya, lebih berkuasa, dan merupakan gender yang dominan. Dan meskipun ayah memarahi semua orang sepanjang waktu, entah bagaimana ibulah yang diam-diam dihormati oleh mereka. Satu kata dari ibu punya dampak yang lebih besar daripada omelan ayahku selama seminggu. Orang-orang memperhatikan perilaku mereka di hadapan ibu dan bertindak lebih baik di dekatnya daripada di dekat ayahku.<\/p>\n Ibu<\/p><\/div>\n Aku tak pernah mengatakan “aku rindu” kepada ayah atau ibuku. Dan jika diberi kesempatan, aku tetap tak akan melakukannya. Tidak ada dalam budayaku. Itu akan sangat aneh. Namun belakangan ini para tulku bisa bilang aku sayang dan aku rindu pada orang tua mereka sepanjang waktu. Mungkin mereka pernah nonton The Brady Bunch atau Modern Family. Aku merinding membayangkan ayahku berkata, “Aku sayang kamu.” Aku lebih terbiasa beliau memarahiku. Beliau akan memarahiku karena segala hal, mulai dari warna bajuku yang terlalu terang hingga langkah kakiku yang terlalu berisik. Malah kalau beliau tak memarahiku, aku jadi penasaran ada apa. Aku pikir penting bagi orang tua untuk memperhatikan bagaimana mereka mewujud di depan anak-anak mereka. Kenanganku tentang ayahku yang memarahi ibuku selama kunjungan ayah yang jarang ke rumah memberikan kesan yang kuat padaku. Melalui semua perbedaan dan situasi sulit, ibu tetap selalu memuji dan berbicara tulus tentang ayahku, menyebutnya sebagai Dungse Rinpoche. Para analis mungkin sangat ingin mengambil kami sebagai pasien mereka.<\/p>\n Sigmund Freud<\/em><\/p><\/div>\n Beberapa tahun sebelum ibuku meninggal, beliau mulai mengatakan hal-hal seperti, \u201cSaat kalian semua sudah pergi, dan meninggalkanku sendiri, aku akan melakukan ini atau itu.\u201d Sepertinya beliau mengharapkan ditinggalkan sendiri atau tak diikutsertakan, yang selalu membuatku bingung dan hampir membuatku jengkel. Pengikut Freud mungkin akan mendiagnosa ibu merasa kesepian karena anak-anaknya sudah dewasa. Karena latar belakang dan suami yang dinikahinya, beliau tak pernah punya kesempatan untuk menjadi seorang ibu. Jika beliau bukan seorang praktisi dharma yang hebat, hidup beliau akan terasa lebih sulit. Dan seingatku, beliau adalah seorang praktisi dharma yang hebat.<\/p>\n Dari sisiku, ada campuran penyesalan karena perpisahan bertahun-tahun menciptakan rasa jarak. Tapi siapa yang bisa memutuskan ikatan ibu dan anak? Meski waktunya singkat, hubunganku dengan ibu dan kakek dari pihak ibu begitu kuat. Melihat ke belakang, aku senang karena aku memaksa ibu untuk ikut bepergian bersamaku ke Swiss, Malaysia, dan Tiongkok ketika aku berusia dua puluhan. Ketiga perjalanan ini, meski singkat, merupakan waktu paling lama yang pernah kami habiskan bersama.<\/p>\n Menurutku, salah satu alasan aku sangat menyukai adikku Jampel Dorje, dan mengapa aku selalu memaafkannya walaupun ia menjengkelkan, adalah karena ia sangat mirip dengan ibu dan kakekku, ciri-cirinya, bahkan gerakan tangannya. Ia adalah saudara kandung yang paling banyak menghabiskan waktu bersama ibuku, dan ibuku sangat menyayanginya karena dia lucu dan gila. Jampel Dorje ngiler ketika ia berbicara dan baru-baru ini aku menyadari bahwa aku juga melakukan hal yang sama. Tampaknya inilah peran DNA.<\/p>\n Ketika kami berhasil menghabiskan waktu bersama, pendekatan ibu terhadapku bukanlah sebagai putranya melainkan sebagai inkarnasi dari Jamyang Khyentse Ch\u00f6kyi Lodr\u00f6. Inilah yang dituntut masyarakat dari ibu seorang tulku. Tapi beliau punya devosi yang tulus. Beliau melakukan begitu banyak namaskara padaku. Memeluk dan berpelukan dengannya adalah hal yang mustahil, kasih sayang ditunjukkan dengan cara lain. Suatu waktu, ketika aku berada di Phuntsholing dan sangat membutuhkan uang tunai, orang pertama yang aku andalkan tanpa ragu adalah ibuku. Aku meminta ibu untuk membeli televisi lamaku, dan beliau membayar penuh harga barunya. Benar-benar tawaran yang bagus buatku.<\/p>\n Pada tahun-tahun terakhirnya, beliau tinggal di Thimphu di sebuah rumah dengan empat kamar tepat di atas Stupa Memorial, yang dirancang ayahku. Aku ingat kadang-kadang pergi ke sana untuk mandi; beliau punya ember besar dengan besi listrik untuk memanaskan air. Beliau berulang kali memperingatkanku untuk tidak menyentuh air ketika saklarnya menyala. Ini adalah caranya menunjukkan kepedulian dan kasih sayang. Jadi ada kalanya beliau berbicara padaku sebagai putranya, bukan sebagai Jamyang Khyentse Ch\u00f6kyi Lodr\u00f6.<\/p>\n Kembali ke takhayul, orang Tibet percaya pada sesuatu yang disebut lha, ini seperti jiwa. Suatu ketika aku berada di Nepal, menerima inisiasi dan ajaran dari semua guru besar yang tinggal di sana pada saat itu. Ibuku juga ada di sana, tinggal di rumah yang dibangun ayahku. Ayahku memberinya sejumlah dolar Amerika, bernilai sekitar 100.000 rupee Nepal. Suatu hari seorang pencuri memanjat pohon, masuk ke kamarnya, dan mencuri uang itu. Beliau sangat menyesali kejadian ini, dan beliau tak pernah pulih dari rasa bersalahnya, terutama karena uang itu berasal dari ayahku. Mungkin hanya imajinasiku, tapi aku merasa beliau kehilangan kilaunya, lha-nya, dan tak pernah pulih kembali. Beliau menjadi introvert. Dan perlahan penyakit tiroid datang. Aku mencoba menghiburnya, bahkan Kyabje Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche, dengan penuh belas kasih, menelepon ibu untuk menghiburnya. Namun entah bagaimana beban itu tak pernah meninggalkannya.<\/p>\n Segera setelah itu aku pergi ke Bir dan melakukan retret Yeshe Tsogyal. Mau tak mau aku bertanya-tanya tentang hubungan antara kejadian-kejadian ini. Aku berharap untuk ibuku, dan untuk semua ibu di masa lalu dan masa depan, bahwa aku dan mereka akan melampaui takhayul dan logika.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n [1] Substansi tantra penting yang terbuat dari biji-bijian dan biasanya dihias dengan mentega berwarna.<\/p>\n [2] Desa ini hanya berjarak 15 menit perjalanan dari Bir.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n [\/et_pb_text][\/et_pb_column][\/et_pb_row][\/et_pb_section]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" [et_pb_section fb_built=”1″ _builder_version=”4.16″ global_colors_info=”{}”][et_pb_row _builder_version=”4.27.2″ background_size=”initial” background_position=”top_left” background_repeat=”repeat” hover_enabled=”0″ global_colors_info=”{}” sticky_enabled=”0″ width=”100%”][et_pb_column type=”4_4″ _builder_version=”4.16″ custom_padding=”|||” global_colors_info=”{}” custom_padding__hover=”|||”][et_pb_text _builder_version=”4.27.2″ background_size=”initial” background_position=”top_left” background_repeat=”repeat” hover_enabled=”0″ global_colors_info=”{}” sticky_enabled=”0″] Aku belajar filsafat Buddhis selama hampir satu dekade di masa remajaku, walau begitu, aku mungkin belum belajar banyak. Aku menjadi orang yang berpikir sempit dengan mengagumi pikiran skeptis. Pendidikanku membuatku sombong […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":3400,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"_et_pb_use_builder":"","_et_pb_old_content":"[caption id=\"attachment_209\" align=\"aligncenter\" width=\"720\"]![\"\"](\"https:\/\/mugwortborn.wpengine.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/06\/Old-Bir-Labrang1--1024x694.jpeg\")
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<\/p>\n Debating<\/em>[\/caption]\r\n\r\nI studied Buddhist philosophy for almost a decade in my teens,\u00a0even though I may not have succeeded in learning much. I did succeed in becoming narrow minded by developing a high regard for the skeptical mind. My studies made me arrogant and blinded my pure perception. I began to idealize skeptics who doubted superstitions, blessings, and devotion. I'm sure if I had known who Erich Fromm and Nietzsche were at that time, I probably would have placed them on the same pedestal as Shakyamuni.\r\n\r\nWhen I was studying at Sakya college my father repeatedly scolded me for wasting time on all this logic and philosophy. I didn't understand. Any other father would be so happy to have a son who was putting effort into his studies. Years later it became clear: These scoldings were coming from someone who understood the blindness of logic and appreciated the taste of practice.\r\n\r\nSo\u00a0I developed this habit of looking down on things that couldn't be explained by logic, but luckily that habit was broken, partly because of a mouse.\r\n\r\n[caption id=\"attachment_216\" align=\"aligncenter\" width=\"1024\"] Old Bir Labrang under construction. Photo by Mal Watson.<\/em>[\/caption]\r\n\r\nIn 1990, I was in the middle of trying to establish Dzongsar Shedra in Bir, India, which has now metamorphosed into something called Deer Park. We were quite poor then; at one point I had only one single green 5 rupee note in my wallet. We survived on food rations that the American government provided for Tibetan refugees, mostly barley and sometimes wheat. It came in big sacks emblazoned with an image of two hands clasped. Ten sacks of barley was enough to feed 25 monks for about a month.\r\n\r\nWhen there was no money to continue construction, we just had to pause and wait until some funds materialized. I relied on a strong \"something will work out\" attitude back then, an attitude that has become weaker over time.\r\n\r\nIt was actually good when the money ran out, because I could take advantage of the time to do retreat. One time I decided to do a one-month retreat dedicated to Lady Yeshe Tsogyal, the consort of Guru Rinpoche (whom Tibetans in general and especially Nyingmapas should revere on the same level as Guru Rinpoche and King Trison Deutsen for all that she has done). \u00a0At the end of this retreat, I was clearing my shrine and to my amazement I discovered that the back of the torma[1]<\/a><\/em> had been eaten by a mouse. This skillful mouse had been so perfect and precise, leaving the front of the torma intact so that I hadn't noticed, even though I had been looking at it for a whole month.\r\n\r\n[caption id=\"attachment_231\" align=\"alignleft\" width=\"1024\"] Photo of Orgyen Tobgyal Rinpoche by Dzongsar Khyentse Rinpoche.<\/em>[\/caption]\r\n\r\nMy logical mind said it's just a mouse, it needs food. My shrine was out in the open, not in a cabinet, so why not? But then Orgyen Tobgyal Rinpoche, the king of soothsayers, showed up saying his soothsaying things and when I told him that my torma had been eaten, he didn't beat around the bush. \"That's a bad sign,\" he growled. He was so direct. Even the most skeptical person would be bothered by a gypsy soothsayer being so frank.\r\n\r\nTwo days later, I received a call from Bhutan from Dasho Pema Wangchen, who was the private secretary to the 4th King of Bhutan. Back then, it was a really big deal to receive a call in Bir, from anyone. The phone rang only about three times a year. To place a call even just to Baijnath[2]<\/a> you had to book with a telephone operator a few hours in advance to reserve the connection. Much later, I gathered that people in Bhutan had nominated Dasho Pema Wangchen to call me because no one else had the courage to deliver the message.\r\n\r\nDasho's voice was surprisingly clear on the line and what he said was also very clear. \"Your mother is dead.\"\r\n\r\nThe Yeshe Tsogyal practice that I had just completed with my mouse-eaten torma was the main and maybe only practice that my mother ever did. So my skeptical mind made a shift right then and there. From that time onward, I couldn't help but be a believer. This was one of the biggest shifts of this nature that I ever had. Now I am superstitious about everything. If I see someone carrying an empty bucket when I am about to go on a trip, that affects me. And when I walk around on the busy streets of New York or New Orleans, when I see tarot card readers, psychics, astrology readers, I easily fall for them. On the positive side, on the last day of the 21-day Tara puja [in Chauntra in 2017], a child offered me his sketch of Arya Tara. But he had put a beard on Tara so that she looked more like Guru Rinpoche and my small mind was overjoyed. I\u00a0thought of course Tara is Guru Rinpoche! So that's where I am now, thanks to that mouse.\r\n\r\n[caption id=\"attachment_229\" align=\"alignleft\" width=\"300\"] Sartre<\/em>[\/caption]\r\n\r\nOver the years, I have met certain skeptical individuals who coasted on the wings of rationality and logic and fancied\u00a0themselves to be as sharp as\u00a0hawks. But years later, those same people were lying in their deathbeds filled with fear and hopelessness. I am really curious how existentialists like Sartre and Camus looked at the moment of death. These critics never used the sharp skepticism they were so fond of to be skeptical of the skepticism.\r\n\r\nUnlike Shakyamuni Buddha, who was beyond karma, and who could choose Maya and Suddhodana to be his parents, we are so dictated by our karma; we don't get to choose. I didn't choose Thinley Norbu and Jamyang Choden. It was just a matter of karma.\u00a0\u00a0Just because someone is your mother or father, that doesn't necessarily mean you love them and vice versa, but that hasn't stopped everyone from thinking that they should. Half of the world's family problems come from that unnecessary expectation. Instead of trusting karma, they end up trusting the assumption that parents should love their children and children should love their parents. The only good that comes of this assumption is that it gives employment to so many therapists. I too am very much a prisoner of my assumptions and expectations regarding my parents.\r\n\r\nMy nostalgia about my mother has grown over time, and especially after she died. After age 8, I had spent a total of only a few months in her company. And I certainly don't remember ever going to a family picnic. Being a rinpoche of that generation meant being estranged from my family. Today the tulku life is dominated by parents, they spend holidays together, they even live together and\u2014for goodness sake\u2014they have Christmas and Thanksgiving gatherings. There was never a Thanksgiving or a family reunion or even a New Year celebration in my family. There has never been a group photo of all of us together.\r\n\r\nI grew up in a patriarchal society that didn't care much for women's rights. As I have explored the world outside that society, I've come to appreciate women and have become one of those who think that gender bias is not a good thing. My mother was never given any right to make decisions about me. How was she supposed to feel when her first son, me, was drafted as a tulku forever, a job that doesn't have an option for firing or resigning. Overjoyed? Although she would never have opposed my being recognized as a tulku and did not resist my being taken away, she was never even given a chance to voice her opinion. In those days parents had no say over the tulkus. The child was just gone.\r\n\r\nThe little memory I have is that she was always kind of alone. My father was never really there. She raised the two youngest kids basically by herself. I can only imagine what her life was like, surrounded by a society that had such strong concepts about what is right and wrong. As the consort of Dudjom Rinpoche\u2019s eldest son and as the daughter of Lama Sonam Zangpo, she had to behave\u2014not that she was ever inclined to misbehave, that was not in her nature.\r\n\r\n[caption id=\"attachment_207\" align=\"alignleft\" width=\"225\"] Aum Kuenga<\/em>[\/caption]\r\n\r\nShe always dressed so simply\u2014 a plain Bhutanese kira<\/em> or a Tibetan chuba<\/em> in dull colors\u2014 and she was a talented weaver. She was so capable, but her talents were never given a chance to blossom in that male-dominated society. Only one thing she made for me, a bedcover, remains in my possession. My attendant Phuntsok\u2019s mother Aum Kuenga\u00a0was her good friend, and now whenever I see her, I get that nostalgic feeling for my mother.\r\n\r\nShe was a woman of few words, which was one of her most awe-inspiring qualities. I met many people who were more in awe of her than of my father, even though my father outranked her, overpowered her, and was the dominant gender. And even though he scolded everyone all the time, somehow she was the one who quietly earned their deepest reverence. One word from her had more impact than a week of my father's scoldings.\u2028 People watched their behavior in her presence and acted more properly around her than around him.\r\n\r\n[caption id=\"attachment_212\" align=\"alignleft\" width=\"168\"] Mum[\/caption]\r\n\r\nI never said \"I miss you\" to my father or mother. Given the chance, I would still not do it. Culturally it's not there. It would be so strange. But these days tulkus say I love you and I miss you to their parents all the time. Maybe they've watched The Brady Bunch or Modern Family. My skin cringes at the thought of my father saying \"I love you.\" I was much more accustomed to him scolding me. He would scold me for everything from the color of my shirt being too bright to my footsteps being too loud. In fact, if he didn't scold me, I'd wonder what was wrong. I think it's it important for parents to pay attention to how they manifest in front of their children. The memories I have of my father scolding my mother during his rare visits home made a strong impression on me. Through all the disparity and difficult situations, she would still always praise and speak genuinely of my father, referring to him as Dungse Rinpoche. The analysts would probably have been eager to take us on as patients.\r\n\r\n[caption id=\"attachment_233\" align=\"alignleft\" width=\"217\"] Sigmund Freud<\/em>[\/caption]\r\n\r\nA few years before my mother passed away, she began saying things like, \u201cWhen you are all gone, when you have abandoned me, I will do this or that.\u201d It seemed she was expecting to be left alone or not included, which always puzzled and almost annoyed me. A lineage holder of Freud might have diagnosed her as having a bit of an empty nest syndrome. Because of who she was and who she was married to, she never had the opportunity to be a mother. If she had not been a great dharma practitioner, she would have had a much harder time. And she was, from what I recall, a great dharma practitioner.\r\n\r\nFrom my side, there is a mixture of regret because the years of separation created a sense of distance. But who can break a mother and son bond? Even though the time was brief, my connection with my mother and my maternal grandfather was so strong. Looking back, I'm glad that I insisted that my mother travel with me to Switzerland, Malaysia, and China when I was in my twenties. These three journeys, albeit short, made up the most time we spent together.\r\n\r\nI think one of the reasons I have a special fondness for my brother Jampel Dorje, and why I always forgive him for being obnoxious, is because he resembles my mother and grandfather so much, his features and even just the movement of his hands. He was the sibling who spent the most time with my mother, and she loved him particularly because he\u2019s kind of funny and crazy. Jampel Dorje drools when he talks and I realized recently that I do that too. This is what DNA can do.\r\n\r\nWhen we did manage to spend some time together, my mother's approach to me was not as her son but as the incarnation of Jamyang Khyentse Ch\u00f6kyi Lodr\u00f6. This is what society demands of a tulku's mother. But she had genuine devotion. She did so many prostrations to me. Hugging and cuddling up with her was out of the question, affection was shown in other ways. Once when I was in Phuntsholing and desperately needed cash, the first person I had no qualms leaning on was my mother. I asked her to buy my old television, and she paid the full original price. It was a good deal for me.\r\n\r\nIn her last years, she stayed in Thimphu in a four-room house right above Memorial Stupa, which my father designed. I remember going there to bathe sometimes; she had a big bucket with an electric rod to heat the water. She warned me again and again not to touch the water if the switch was on. This was her way of showing her concern and affection. So there were a few times that she spoke to me as her son, not as Jamyang Khyentse Ch\u00f6kyi Lodr\u00f6.\r\n\r\nComing back to superstition, Tibetans believe in something called lha<\/em>, which is like soul. Once I was in Nepal receiving initiations and teachings from all the great masters who were living there at that time. My mother was also there, living in a house that my father had built. My father had given her some American dollars, worth about 100,000 Nepali rupees. One day a thief climbed a tree, broke into her room, and stole the money. She felt so bad about this, and she never recovered from that sense of guilt, especially because the money was from my father. It could have been my imagination, but I felt that she lost her radiance, her lha, and never recovered it. She became introverted. And then slowly her thyroid sickness came. I tried to console her, and even Kyabje Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche, ever so compassionate, called her on the phone to cheer her up. But somehow that burden never left her.\r\n\r\nSoon after that I went to Bir and did the Yeshe Tsogyal retreat. I can't help but wonder about the connections. I hope for my mother , and for all the mothers of the past and the future, that I and they will go beyond superstition and logic.\r\n\r\n \r\n\r\n \r\n\r\n \r\n\r\n[1]<\/a> Quite an important tantric substance which are made of grains and usually decorated with colored butter.\r\n\r\n[2]<\/a> The village just 15 minutes down the road from Bir.","_et_gb_content_width":"","footnotes":""},"project_category":[85],"project_tag":[],"class_list":["post-3398","project","type-project","status-publish","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","project_category-episodes-id"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/mugwortborn.com\/id\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/project\/3398","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/mugwortborn.com\/id\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/project"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/mugwortborn.com\/id\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/project"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mugwortborn.com\/id\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mugwortborn.com\/id\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=3398"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/mugwortborn.com\/id\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/project\/3398\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mugwortborn.com\/id\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/3400"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/mugwortborn.com\/id\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=3398"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"project_category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mugwortborn.com\/id\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/project_category?post=3398"},{"taxonomy":"project_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mugwortborn.com\/id\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/project_tag?post=3398"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}