EPISODE SEVEN: Loss of Innocence
When I was growing up in East Bhutan, there were phalluses on display everywhere. Even in our home, you’d find phalluses carved into doorknobs, adorning soup ladles, and on banisters. They were painted on the walls, inside and outside, in different sizes and shapes. There were so many that no one even took notice. Boys and girls, brothers and sisters, monks and nuns, would have casual conversations right in front of these phallic symbols and paintings.
Bhutanese also liked to make phalluses and vaginas out of dough; this may be the one art that I have mastered. I admit I have made countless sex organs out of chewing gum and pasted them under the tables of countless restaurants around the world. It wasn’t just symbols and carvings and paintings. The whole attitude around sex was much more open in this place where I grew up. Outrageous flirting was not considered unwholesome like in other societies. A woman inviting a man to spend time in bed together was as ordinary as inviting for tea. Only later did I realize that “civilized” society might find this behaviour barbaric, primitive, and backwards.
Eventually I myself started to think in this limited way. After I was labeled as a tulku, it was common for ladies to come to me and open their shirts to expose their bare chests so I could blow on them, because they believe it would ease their pain. Years later, when I returned to East Bhutan and these ladies came with their open shirts, I found myself not being able to look at them. But after a few days, my old childhood chemistry set in and I once again was at ease, the judgmental mind that considered these actions primitive was quieted.
For better or worse, loss of innocence, if there is such a thing, is inevitable. Innocence loses its purity amidst the murkiness of education and grooming, which leads to hypocrisy. That has been my experience in my personal life.
Things changed for me 180 degrees when I entered the “more sophisticated,” “decent,” “cultured” realm of the Tibetans, living in labrangs surrounded by monks, rinpoches, khenpos, tulkus, and so on. Like many young Rinpoches, I was raised in the company of mostly celibates. Hardly a day went by without my tutors, who were mostly ordained monks, depicting women as temptresses, obstacles on the path. They would say: If you think girls are appealing and beautiful, it’s just because they’ve washed and groomed themselves. If they stop clipping their nails for a week, they will all look like witches. If they don’t brushed their teeth, their mouths will smell like other orifices, if they don’t wash their hair, they will grow dreadlocks. Years later, I learned that this male chauvinistic attitude is not rooted in the Dharma, it is a worldly, cultural phenomenon, especially Asian culture, that has been lacquered with the teachings on the Vinaya.
In public, my tutors were like jealous wives, always checking the direction of my gaze. They would never dream of leaving me alone with a girl, especially if she was from Bhutan or the west, because, in the Tibetans’ opinion, girls from Bhutan or the west were promiscuous and dangerous. There were so many hippies in Nepal at that time and “westerner” began to mean “hippie” which began to mean “drug taker” and possibly also mentally unstable. Western girls didn’t hunch over, hiding their breasts and covering their behinds like the Tibetans who hid everything. My tutors didn’t know what to do with this display. If they saw a western woman wearing jeans that weren’t even that tight, they would make disapproving tsk tsk sounds and watch me with extra vigilance.
They didn’t seem to have a clue that their 24-hour surveillance wasn’t stopping my curiosity, in fact, it had the opposite effect. But I was such a good pretender, leading them to think I was uninterested, just like when I pretended I didn’t like movies. Fortunately, my tutors trusted Kyabje Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche. The moment I was in his care, they would stop guarding me, resting assured I was in good hands. Little did they know, as soon as they left, Rinpoche would start asking me if any beautiful girls had caught my eye. Only recently did I realize Kyabje Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche’s openness and trust was one of the greatest skillful means to train wild beings like me. Otherwise I might have mastered the art of pretense. Pretending to be serene, pure, virginal, innocent, chaste, while inside burning with desire, going crazy alternating between the act of purity and the inner battle to suppress my hormonal eruptions.
I should say fake discipline has some value. After a while, if you are good at pretending to be pure, you become more mature and an indifferent attitude sets in, which is good; sexual objects become part of the natural environment. I personally know a few rinpoches who were under a lot of scrutiny when we were growing up together, always under the ever watchful eye of their tutors. These tulkus, just like myself, learned to act pure even though they sometimes confided to me about their fantasies and desires. Years have passed and now they have become disciplined practitioners, so they no longer need to pretend. So you can’t just write off the whole process of surveillance and fakery. Meanwhile, not pretending—just being direct and open about your preferences and desires all the time—can spoil a person. There is a lack of responsibility and this kind of behavior can cause others to lose inspiration.
On the other hand, out of control faking can lead one to lose touch with the fundamental genuine quality of being human. It can create insecurity, and you end up thinking others are also not genuine. If you are faking, you think others are probably faking. You become proud and pretentious, everything is a show, even to yourself. I think teachers who are not skillful in guiding a student morally and ethically, who insist on purity, end up creating demons of hypocrisy.
Kyabje Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche with Ugyen Shenpen.
When I was about seven, I went to the grand Rumtek Monastery in Sikkim, the seat of the 16th Karmapa, to receive the complete Shangpa Kagyu teachings and initiations from Kalu Rinpoche. I was accompanied by my tutor Ugyen Shenpen and Sonam Tashi. Almost all the known Karma Kagyu tulkus were there, including Shamar Rinpoche, Situ Rinpoche, and Jamgon Kongtrul Rinpoche.
During that particular teaching and initiation from Kalu Rinpoche, two things left a big impression on me. On rare occasions, the Karmapa would come to the balcony and look down at us through the glass. He was always so magnificent and majestic and at the same time very intimidating. It was such a joy to see him but also so scary. If I detected even the smallest movement I would watch that spot with the hope that it would be him.
The other big impression was from a woman who was probably older than my mother. She was my first crush. Being a human who was under the control of countless lifetimes of habit, stuck with eighteen dhatus and twelve ayatanas, my infatuation was insurmountable. The object of my crush happened to be the mother of one of the kindest young Rinpoches, so it was a delicate situation. She was attending the teachings with her husband. If I have to rank the emotions—ignorance, desire, anger, pride—I would rank jealousy and pride as the lowest. To say that jealousy has no point, is putting it mildly. But imagine, a boy of seven, jealous of a husband of a woman who is older than his mother. I had never even spoken to her. I am sure I must have looked at her with unveiled emotion, but because I was such a young boy, in her mind I was just a kid with big eyes. I was so infatuated with her that at night I couldn’t sleep. For hours, while everyone slept, I laid there imagining all the things that I could do with her—nothing sexual—but marriage, walking in the snow mountains, riding double-decker buses and putting a rosebud in her ear, all these scenes I’d referenced from still photos of Bollywood films. If I heard a Bollywood song, I would imagine we were the ones singing. Years later when I went to London, Nedup Dorjee took me on a double-decker tour of London and thinking back on those Rumtek days made me so embarrassed.
Photo of SHARUKH KHAN and PREITY ZINTA. For the Bollywood film VEER-ZAARA
But when I was 16 years old, it was a different story. Yet again my encounter with a lady wasn’t in a high school cafeteria or a sleazy bar, but in a Dharma gathering. This time the focus of my attention was a red-headed French woman in her forties. She had come from Paris to receive teachings from Kyabje Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche in Nepal, and every day she would wear something different. Sometimes she would wear knee length skirts. She wasn’t used to sitting cross legged so she was always crossing and uncrossing her legs and if I glanced at the right moment I could see her legs and stockings. She had so many different kinds, fishnets and silky hose. My infatuation with her was mostly about her style. You could say it was my introduction to French fashion. I didn’t realize it was a French thing—the lipstick and eye shadow and scarves. Also her French accent sounded good to my ears. You could always tell she had arrived by her distinctive perfume. I didn’t realize it was seductive because I didn’t know what seduction was.
I remember all this but I don’t remember her name, she might even be dead by now. On the days she didn’t come to the teaching, I found myself looking for her but I had to be careful. Not only did I have my own attendants watching me, there were many other young Rinpoches who were ever watchful. But luckily, because of my position in the room near a window, I could see her reflection without looking directly at her. Nevertheless she must have noticed that I was paying attention to her.
I only confided in one friend, whose name I cannot mention, and he was so surprised that I found her freckles beautiful. He just couldn’t understand what I liked about this skin disease. I could only confide in this one friend because he was very understanding, otherwise, confessing to people around me that I was interested in girls, especially a girl with red hair and a freckled face, would be like confessing that I wanted to join a suicide bomb squad. It had to be kept absolutely confidential. It was good that the Tibetans didn’t think she was beautiful at all because I could easily feign disinterest. I had to really conceal my emotions and luckily by then I had become a master at this. The challenge was to look like a good disciplined rinpoche while arranging interactions of any kind with this redheaded, multicolor dressed woman.
It was a most interesting courtship because there was no shared language between us. I hardly spoke English and she also spoke very little. I could tell my retinue that I was with Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche while I was trying to have a conversation with her but it required a lot of tricks and lies. The few times we communicated—her using her limited English and me using mime and hand gestures—I had to cut short and run off with no explanation. I really had to act quickly. She must have been so puzzled. Completely unaware of my situation, she would invite me to her house for tea or to go on walks, which I guess was kind of like asking me on a date. But accepting such an invitation was just not possible at all. I couldn’t take leave for even an hour. For me, even to have a conversation for 10 minutes was almost impossible. She even invited me to go trekking with her. She didn’t understand that the only place I was allowed to go alone was a toilet, otherwise there were either attendants, monks, or lamas following my every movement. And I wasn’t even a high ranking lama. Imagine what the high ranked lamas were going through. But I think we slowly began to understand each other’s intentions and situations. Because she was an adult, she knew how to recognize a crush and because she was open minded, she didn’t try to dissuade me.
So one night, many of us were invited for a formal dinner by the French ambassador or some French organization. It wasn’t at the embassy, it was a restaurant or maybe some kind of private club. There were many people there, including this redhead. Instead of coming to the dinner, the other tulkus all went out to a movie so I had to go alone. This buffet style event was a totally new experience for me. Most of us were served outside by Nepali boys holding trays of hors d’oeuvres. People were roaming around in and out. The woman approached me, she must have been a little bit drunk but I didn’t even know what the signs of alcohol were back then. No Tibetan or Bhutanese girl would ever have dared to approach me while drinking. But now that I think back, she must have been.
We sat together on a bench near a big hedge. Everyone was busy socializing, going for drinks and food at the buffet tables, on the other side of the dimly lit garden, but we didn’t get up. The absence of light and language must have helped us to communicate because she had to move closer and closer to me. She looked at me more than I looked her because the moment she looked at me, I had to look away.
Suddenly she took my hand and placed it down her shirt. I was shocked by this unexpected gesture, and I didn’t know what to do to conceal my nerves. My instinct told me to remove my hand and sniff it. This amused her, so she took my hand and put it down her shirt again and told me to do it again. That night when I went back home I could still feel her face cream on my skin. At the teachings the next day, still it was there even though I had thoroughly washed my face, and I felt so uncomfortable and worried that people would find out. I could smell her perfume on me for so long.
As Arundati Roy wrote: “In those early amorphous years when memory had only just begun, when life was full of beginnings and no ends, and everything was forever…” the phenomena of infatuation and the need to have someone else’s existence, began.
Thanks Rinpoche. Your personal sharings are so precious . The words of Arundati Roy simply put and beautiful.
This is so special and powerful. I have struggled with powerful sexual feelings from an early age, always there has been guilt, what is the answer? Its incredible to know that you too have these feelings and wonderful to know there is a culture that enbraces them, that in that culture I woukd not be bad. Thankyou thankyou thankyou!
Nothing beats the feeling of needing someone else’s existence and it only gets better as we learn about inseparability 🙂
I think someone has a ginger fever.
so moving and perfect. oh, Rinpoche. “The need to have someone else’s existence” is such an interesting sentence.
🙏🏽❤️️🙏🏽
Thank you so much Rinpoche. Just a joy to read. So much respect and admiration for your intelligence, open-mindedness, brilliance and humour. Not only in this thing, just now reading your “Guru drinks bourbon” also.
Rinpoche….
My grandfather lived to be 98 years old and was a true Zen scholar. When he was 91 I witnessed an 85 year old woman flirt with him ! He was instantly 13 years old again !
He told me that such infatuations are a direct path to your sweet vulnerable heart, which is really pure.
If we have these experiences and transform the infatuation into unconditional love, we can discover the true bodhisattva path.
Your openness and honesty move me to tears….. this is one of your finest teachings.
Thanks for your example !
Chris Haltom
Dear Rinpoche! Amazing. Fidel Castro had 35000 women, but loved only three.
Rinpoche, as many times i tried to,
no words can describe the gratitude inside me, and for sure, many other beeings, for your boundless wisdom sharing with us.
Thank you timeless, meeting where is nothing to fight over.
***
No you
no I
just wisdom
able to tell
able to understand
just wisdom
no innocence
no guilt
just seeing, hearing, feeling
smelling, tasting
be knowing of
wisdom
Dharmadoors can be so various, thank you Rinpoche for opening (or knocking?)
Which door could be opened
in this illusory wall ?
The knocking , just a sound in a dream.
In boundless gratitude ***
on gems of wisdom from today –
one time will be no fear to get from devotion into obsession;like there is
no wall and no door between.
Praying never to be apart from the great wisdom and compassion ***
… praying to never be apart, might be better said .
Katrina,
just realized how wisely it’s been written. i can’t thank you enough.
Best wishes to all.
Basic instict. So what!
Dear Rinpoche _()_
“Every act of rebellion expresses a nostalgia for innocence and appeal to the essence of being”
Albert Camus.
I am grateful for EPISODE SEVEN, make me happy. Love that bench.
_()_ _()_ _()_
Rinpoche, your honesty and unpretentious humanity is so inspiring. Spiritual masters don’t normally write about their crushes and romantic interests. I hope sometime you might teach further on the balance between pretending to be platonic for the sake of maintaining the rules of the tradition while not believing one is who one pretends to be, so as to not become sanctimonious and hypocritical. Also, since many masters do marry and have sexual relationships in the end and are still revered and inspiring like Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche, why would there be so much pressure on other Tulkus to uphold the vow of celibacy lest others lose inspiration? I hope you could clarify this with your incomparable insights some time.
Mind´s ultimate Natur …
spontaneously ?
True, serene and pure !
As well great poetry,
thank you one more time ***
Beautiful and inspiring.Thanks Rinpoche for sharing your romantic stories in such a honest and humourous way. Really enjoyed reading it and brought back similar memories of losing innocence before it got spoiled with attachment:).
Having infatuation is easy, as long as one has needs.
Finding the right one is an another story.
This right one is like a last piece of jigsaw, which reminds us we have never lost our innocence …
Longing for innocence may be a view to something backwards ?
Waiting for the “right” one, heats on our dualistic view and grasping desire.
In the meantime there is the opportunity to take care of emotions, face them and work on bakshas – .
May the lotos bloom out of the mud !
Finding a right one is not a personal achievement, but a sacrifice: One has to give up him/herself first.
Being the right one is not a privilege, but a service: One who wants to be special has only ambition, while a right one needs to have vision.
It is beyond dualism,beyond equality, even beyond “One-ness”. What an adventure!
May be i was disturbed by the word “right” – lets say “the one”.
Giving up oneself is unavoidable on our path, n ést pas ?
So we are on the track !
Yes, i am feeling the advendture too.
Lets see, what results follows or past actions.
May all be purified, may all be enlightened ***
Sorry, here is the missing “u”.
Seems, it wanted to stay overnight, this little something.
I meant : Lets see, what results follows our past actions.
No I, no personal – being certainly confident, with love ***
Ja. Let’s pray & let the magic play!
The Vision, that to see is to be seen ?
We will see …
Just words can´t be enough ***
Tara, I wish you have great time in Bhutan!
If the merit is great enough …
thank you, Lian – be blessed ***
Thank you for remind
to proof our motivation.
Awareness of the upcoming
unholesome tendences, like
wanting to be special, have to be observed and transform.
Ultimately for the liberation of all sentient beings.
There is no wisdom without
compassion.
May you live long and healthy, dear Rinpoche.
Well said.
“There is no wisdom without compassion.”
Vice verse, without wisdom, compassion will be suffering.
Thank you for your openness
and talent to water our fantasy and emotions.
Nine month ahead i will come to Bhutan to see with my own eyes the beauty of sexual organs in each colour and shape. 😉
Beside this i am glad to have the opportunity to do this exiting, inspiring journey.
With gratitude ***
Thank you Rinpoche. The mystery of celibacy and sensuality and societal norms for sexuality and identity, so vast. How we are shaped….our bodies, our longings, and then…the mind…the consciousness…and lifetimes of practice…for the benefit of all beings, all sexes, all situations.
Anjali. So precious.
Ginger Parrot, see website 🙂
… infact : gingers don´t get grey;
In german there´s a saying :
at night all cats are gray.
Live with your gifts, day and night.
Soha
Gifts and faults from now seen.
Some times motivation isn’t sober yet.
May all be purified
may virtue prevail
…hahaha…
In SE Asia, there is a mantra: Same- Same, but different.
May all be happy.
Hema Hema: Sing me a song while I wait…
Next episode please, Rinpoche! Thank you.
************
May all have a magic year of 2017!
May all be relieved with the “emptiness”;
May all be blessed with the “unlimitedness”!
Some things are not easily faked, and the impressions that are left in the mind can be quite telling. Where does duality play a role in this impermanence?
What a blessed time and circumstance
to listen and see you speeking in India a few weeks ago – here and now on the sreen. Funny how you were checking your smartphone during the holy sutra teaching.
Some peaces of the puzzle arrived yet; thank you for your encouragement !
The reflection of your smile seem so beautifull to me, i fully understand, that once Maitreya let the Buddha step on his body.
***
Might be a grand vision
to do a cooking shamata together
likewise sitting face to face
in a holy mountain – no talking anymore;
just shared presence.
Thanks for the onionperformence, Rinpoche.
Dedicating to the benefit of all beings.
Why not?
If we have huge devotion, Guru is with us all the time– Guru is mindfulness.
If we have unconditional devotion, Guru is we — Meditation has been completed by itself.
Good luck to all.
Same same and different – we are the mandala;
May you be well, healthy and protected ***
Thank you.
…”and” somehow is misleading.
It might be more precise to say: Same same just different.
“different” is the expression of “same”.
The point of “emptiness” is not the “emptiness” itself,
but “emptiness of the emptiness”.
May all have fun!
“and” seem to integrate and connect in my view.
Isn´t same/different interdependent, impermanent and emptiness ?
Is there anything by “itself”?
May we have opportunity to discuss our questions anyhow.
***
… this quotation of Padmasambhava answered : I don´t have
I don´t understand
I don´t know.
***
Thank you.
My comment is based on “We’re the Mandala.”, where “we” is a complete “we” as a totality.Therefore same is different; different is same.It’s non-dualistic.
However, in “(We’re) same same AND different”, “we” seems a compromise of “you, i and others” where “same” seems to equal “different” due to the emptiness nature or all participants seem to unite because of the interdependence of same/difference.It’s somehow still dualistic…
May “we” never be apart!
@Same,
… so for the same reason, Padmasambhava would also say:
I am not enlightened.
Actually it is not a humble attitude, but a fact.
Wisdom is compassion.
May we remember Guru Rinpoche as Great Compassion!
With unlimited gratitude.
So, if it benefits – same same and different could seen as we are essencely connected (same) and (simultaneous) existencly apart (different). So no-one is excluded.
Speech ins´t able to express out of dualism.
To the welfare of all beings ***
May we stop here, Lian … we are in the mugwort-field, Rinpoches room for comments. Thank you for the exchange, may we attain clearness and wisdom.
On the mugwort-land,
no i,no personal.
May all enjoy discussions–
dance with Guru’s mind.
Any misstep is a stepstone for a further dance;
May parties never end…
Cheers!
Soha )))o(((
That sounds really, really like one of the great living masters – .
Very gentle voice !
I LEAVE YOU IN PEACE. BE HAPPY.
Happy losar Rinpoche and sangha !
Thanks to all for that resounding-event.
Seing you in the upcoming morninglight … so beautyfull !
Illusiory like the sunlihgt, laying myself on your left shoulder.
Thanks for the ngondro lung, guruji. Timeless in my heart -.
May prosperity prevail.
I could totally relate to your childhood fantasies and later hormonal revolution. Of course, your first crush was on elegance and grace 🙂 Beautiful flashback.
May i share this pretty joke -.
Scientists are working on the question : is there a concience – and if, how it goes inferior so quickly ?
Root syllables: Oxytocin or aromatic rings?
Just like Shangri-la, it’s all in the minds. Narcotics come in many forms.
Probably don’t want to put oneself on a see-saw if a balance can’t be maintained.
I hear fentanyl and bourbon are a good combo.
Ask what was in Kashoggi’s syringe. And no, doubtful it’s datura.
It is very beautiful your memory. I can’t even imagine the pressure that you and other tulkus of your time must have felt specially when dealing with emotions and hormones that are exactly like wood thrown into a fire barely under control.Oh the temptation one feels to rebel when everything is so controlled or when it’s kind of forbidden ( specially if its under the moral puritanical pretenses)- because that’s it isn’t it ? Being puritanical doesn’t mean that we are pure…maybe when we are truly pure this puritanical nonsense is exactly that- nonsense ;)!
And then??
Just sit –
For the sake of all beings.
***
And stop using religion to achieve political motives and for power play. Inner peace does not come from malicious manipulation and exploitation of the perceived weak and powerless. The poor and downtrodden are rarely the ones making a beeline to Shangri-la to “buy” redemption.
Co-opting spirituality from other cultures when it doesn’t apply to lifestyle or the environment is quite meaningless.
No amount of anointing with spiritual oil removes the taint of small minded greedy people. How absurd when they go to the lengths that they do in trying to frame innocent people. Trying to “buy” redemption is meaningless.
Lust, envy, sloth, pride, avarice gluttony, anger.
Without balance, expect craziness.
So thankful to the karma that brought me to your website! I really like the paragraph about hypocrisy:
“I think teachers who are not skillful in guiding a student morally and ethically, who insist on purity, end up creating demons if hypocrisy.”
While reading what you wrote I think of an idea to cope with infatuation: imagine that in a certain past life, that one used to be grandpa/grandma
💐💐💐
haha a stone of my kidney just went out… it was painful, tears came out ….after a while, reading your words make me laugh till I cry… extreme sensations passing by…..
honesty clarity wit compassion … a joy to read, i am so happy to discover this dharma community! Rinpoche is a gem, bravo x
Cada capítulo me ha atrapado totalmente, entre las situaciones más místicas como los lugares ocultos de su abuelo y su nacimiento, hasta las experiencias más mundanas pero tan cercanas y reales como el enamoramiento y el contacto con mujeres, me dan gran inspiración, el reconocerle como un gran maestro que no es extraterrestre, sino que ha experimentado situaciones como las mía, me lleva a sentirme más cerca a usted Rinpoche.
Pueda mi mente fundirse en su compasión y sabirduría infinitas preciado maestro; pueda algún día tener al menos un vislumbre de su mente 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻