Debating
I studied Buddhist philosophy for almost a decade in my teens, even 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.
When 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.
So I 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.
Old Bir Labrang under construction. Photo by Mal Watson.
In 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.
When 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.
It 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). At the end of this retreat, I was clearing my shrine and to my amazement I discovered that the back of the torma[1] 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.
Photo of Orgyen Tobgyal Rinpoche by Dzongsar Khyentse Rinpoche.
My 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.
Two 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] 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.
Dasho’s voice was surprisingly clear on the line and what he said was also very clear. “Your mother is dead.”
The 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 thought of course Tara is Guru Rinpoche! So that’s where I am now, thanks to that mouse.
Sartre
Over the years, I have met certain skeptical individuals who coasted on the wings of rationality and logic and fancied themselves to be as sharp as hawks. 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.
Unlike 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. Just 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.
My 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—for goodness sake—they 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.
I 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.
The 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’s eldest son and as the daughter of Lama Sonam Zangpo, she had to behave—not that she was ever inclined to misbehave, that was not in her nature.
Aum Kuenga
She always dressed so simply— a plain Bhutanese kira or a Tibetan chuba in dull colors— 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’s mother Aum Kuenga was her good friend, and now whenever I see her, I get that nostalgic feeling for my mother.
She 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. People watched their behavior in her presence and acted more properly around her than around him.
Mum
I 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.
Sigmund Freud
A few years before my mother passed away, she began saying things like, “When you are all gone, when you have abandoned me, I will do this or that.” 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.
From 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.
I 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’s 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.
When 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 Chökyi Lodrö. 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.
In 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 Chökyi Lodrö.
Coming back to superstition, Tibetans believe in something called lha, 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.
Soon 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.
[1] Quite an important tantric substance which are made of grains and usually decorated with colored butter.
[2] The village just 15 minutes down the road from Bir.
Thank you, Rinpoche. I’m so happy that you’re taking the time to share these stories and photos with us. They’re helpful.
Lovely Rinpoche, so touching that my tears blurred the reading half way through; so much human love, compassion, and clarity ; just the style of your narration is heart wrenching; you seem to stir up the depths of emotion latent and deep, and offer it up for clarity and wisdom.. Thank you la
Rimpochey is really so wonderful to read all about your life. Is such a delight and feel so blessed to have this opportunity and thank you so much for sharing your personal life story.
Thank you so much for your kindness to share us your story.
Wow what a great realisation rinpochela…unstoppable tears gushing out like never before..rinpoche u r always a top most inspiration to me la
A very very special ‘read’. Thankyou so much Rinpoche,
Long Live Rinpoche! I enjoyed the story with much respect la
I love this entry as much as I loved reading all the others. As a Mother myself I am imagining your mum giving you (rinpoche la) the warmest kind of hug that encompasses everything.
OMG! Your childhood and your connection to your mom and dad are unusually painful but also their subtle unseen blessings are profound and your honesty exhibit, beyond everything. Thank you!
Thanks for narration RINPOCHE la…is heart touching la…tears rolled down..something beyond expression la…🙏🙏🙏🌷🌷🌷
I love these stories
🙏🙏🙏😢😢😢 chapsu Chee la Rinpoche
Gratitude! That story inspirei me
I am just an old student of Khanpo Thupten Rinpoche and Khabje Dodrup Chen Rinpoche. I grew up in Brooklyn which is not like Bhutan. When I was 11 my mother brought home a book from work. She worked for Time Life corporation. It was called the Great Religions of the World. The first chapter was on Buddhism. I read it and then told my Irish Catholic mother that I was a Buddhist. She gave me a look but she did not scold me. I later tried to teach myself to meditate and I would share my feelings with her. She always was supportive. Years later I asked my mother to come to see The Sixteenth Karmapa with me and to my surprise she agreed. She came to the Black Crown ceremony at the Plaza Hotel in New York. When the time came to come up to receive blessings. She came up. Karmapa brushed her hair with his brocade wand and she swooned and I held her up, She briefly fainted. I helped her out of the room and we went home. She did not say much. A couple of years later she met Khanpo Thupten and gave him some money to rebuild his monastery, She was very intelligent and hardworking. I now think of her with great fondness because of the tolerance and acceptance she had for me. She facilitated my entering Dharma even though it was quite alien to her.
Oh my goodness, this chapter stirs me so much.
Thank you for sharing Rinpoche. It’s truly beautiful and heart touching. Yours is the only blog I enjoy reading and honestly the only blog I read. ❤️
I find you so childlike and a bit naughty you make me laugh I love the photos of the phone and Sartre and all of them but the phone cracked me up I always thought the existentialists should have explored Buddhism I felt like them till I found the Dharma.I love hearing about your life.and hearing your opinions, its so interesting and charming.Thankyou
Goodness, Rinpoche, your episodes are so deeply moving. I found my heart breaking in this one, and then suddenly at the end I was laughing. Incredibly beautiful writing, and such touching, profound stories. Thank you, thank you, thank you. The part about you two drooling when you talk is hysterical. And for some reason I just have to say, “I love you.”
Thank you my the bottom of my heart Rinpoche for sharing such honest and inspiring story.((*))
Rinpoche’s story about your mother- Yum Jamyang is deeply moving and touched the core of my heart la.It is indeed very sad that women’s role and status within the family and the society are reduced to scarecrow’s position in the face of patriarchal rules. Yum was a true dakini to bear all kinds of misery and to have forbearance for an absent husband even if he was an enlightened master. Many modern women will not have this kind of patience and resilence to live a challenging life. I had a god fortune of meeting Rinpoche’s yum in my child hood days in Thimphu la. I find it precious after reading Rinpoche’s fond memories of your compassionate yum la.
I so much enjoy the way you write. Could you please share memories about dreams you had when you were a child?
This episode is deeply moving too, as were all the others before. Thank you Rinpoche for taking time to write such precious episodes for all of us. I can`t help but thank God for being able to say I Love You to my daughters and they back to me. My own mother never says the word but we all know that she loves all of us siblings unconditionally, and unlike Rimpoche`s Yum, she has the privilege to scold us whenever she likes.
♥️♥️🙏🙏
I could read these stories forever….Thank you <3
I’m sure you would hate this but there is a sadness to this story.
I feel like typing this: in his last years, an old, sick and frail Sartre (his agony was long, he was blind and had several heavy health issues) *changed* completely; he started reading and studying the Torah and other Judaism sacred texts. Most of his friends and students felt very shocked at this, but his long-life partner, Simone De Beauvior, had the guts to write about it in “Adieux: A Farewell to Sartre”, in case you want to read it, Rinpoche.
Thank you so much Rinpoche.
Very beautiful.Since the time I saw the movie ” The words of my perfect teacher” I have been wondering about rinpoche’s mother…I guess, and that’s only my ignorant assumption, that she willingly chose to manifest in that role, helping the guru, on the backstage, because it would bring much more benefit to sentient beings, that and her humility…and maybe her love for you was so big that she had to keep that connection mother/son by calling by your birth name ( I like that, I like that very much and causes me a to have a big devotion to her)…I’m sorry if the comment is too long and inappropriate . Thank you for your memories. They are very precious .
I was deeply touched. It was kind of my story too, that cunning father and miserable , compassionate mother I have. Rinpoche is one of the best story teller of all times. I have his book but haven’t read it but soon I m going to cover the whole meaning. And one of the article rinpoche written about bhudism, Gaya stupa, I don’t know the topic which was on internet at one time. So anyone , if you have that please share it on net once again.
Thank you very much for such a profound message for all children whose mothers are no longer living and always wish to thank them and explain what such relationship between mother and a son meant to them. I lost my mother when I was fourteen. I also witnessed before my mother passed away a bumper crop of maize which never yielded before. Abundance unlike any other times is also harbinger of misfortune too?
Thank you very much for sharing the episode. I also received blessing from yum at Deothang and Thimphu.
Rimpochey thank you so much for sharing your personal family story. Is so touching and a great teaching la.
Precious Precious Rinpoche!
Long Long Long Life!!!
Thank You!
Dear Rinpoche, this lineage holder of Freud thanks you, my root Guru, for absolutely everything.
Genuinely moving and touching thank you for sharing!
this made me read the whole thing for the first time. Beautifully expressed la. 🙏🙏🙏
Thank you so much Rinpoche for sharing and letting us have such a rare and nostalgic glimpses into Your Holiness’s incomparable life. Thank you la.
_/\_ _/\_ _/\_
Thank you la Rinpoche. Through your story, I can relate to my mother better. Hope to practice for all mothers.
Thank you so much for sharing deep core feelings and observations. I wonder if I will ever stop having so many questions about the dharma, you, my own karma and psychology, etc. I can only dream to go beyond superstition and logic. Thank you for your honesty, persistence and practice. I so wish your father could have put the money into a bank for your mother. I’m sorry she had the burden of guilt in her final days. Of greed, anger and ignorance, ignorance is so subtle and merges so deeply into the heart. Thank you for your courage in sharing this episode.
Thank you Rinpoche for sharing the touching story about love and mother. I read through and my tears’ running all the time. My dearest parents passed away in a disaster. The most precious things they left to me are those pieces of moments we are together doing little things…I love you dear Rinpoche💕
Rinpoche , thanks for sharing of mother love for rinpoche 👏👏👏🙏🙏🙏! Being a single mother’s child couldn’t know father love!
Nostalgic and i feel i am revived/resurrected every time I read mugwortborn. May all sentient beings be revived/resurrected from the ignorance..tsawai lama la kheno.
I used to see your mum in Katmandu, a block or so away from where I was staying. She seemed sad from being so alone, but restrained, and in some way that only practice brings, radiant. Surely strong. I always wanted to say something to her, have her over for tea, but didn’t cross the language & cultural creek to invite her over. Her face, self sufficiency, grace, are engraved in my memory. And all your films, it seems to me, are in some way, venerating her, which I’ve always thought, even before reading this. It’s good to hear your observations. 51% of the earth’s population, women. Lest we forget from whence we all came. Thanks for pointing out the cruel way patriarchal pecking orders (beware men wearing skirts!) around the world treat the flowers and fruits of humanity, women, especially mothers, despite all their blather.
Nice story. I would like to clarify something though: I don’t think that critical thinking is making anyone arrogant. If one is arrogant it is often to mask a lack of self confidence…
Critical thinking teaches humility as many philosophers will agree to say : <>> Without the need to use supernatural and superstitious ideas to find answers.
Also coincidences happens. Critical thinking acknowledge that.
And critical thinkers are not necessarily afraid of death. We acknowledge that death is inevitable, that change is inevitable, and we are in peace with that.
Thank you, Rinpoche. So meaningful for me, an ordinary person. All mother’s are the source of life and beauty, no matter how it turns out in life. This one made me cry also. So glad I have the good karma to be able to read these glimpses you share.
Thankyou Rinpoche for sharing your beautiful stories with us.
I look forward to reading every one,they are like treasure to me..
I love your way of writing your memories, I think I have expressed before on these comments,that I hope to see these together in one volume in a book one day..that would be awesome..
wishing you every Peace and Happiness..
Dear Rinpoche, Happy Valentine’s day!!! May your day be filled with lots and lots of love, rainbows, and stars…
Thank you beloved Rinpoche for sharing your thoughts and feelings and your life. My eternal gratitude to you. I have a sweet and wiser mother like you and i have to tell you every day I miss her more. How i would like to hugh and talk to her and feel her warmth. So I understand you. Thanks precious Guru.
Thank you la rinpoche for sharing this story.Being a mother it simply moved me to tears. I’m also very superstitious rinpoche la,and i always used to have a dream of doing prostrations and praying to rinpoche in a place similar to the Stupa but with much splendor and getting blessings from rinpoche all the time.
I just spent time at my sister’s house, and found a beautiful picture of my mother running toward the camera, laughing. It made me think of how the job of being a mother changed her; she could not remain the laughing, running young woman. I wish that we all remember that our mothers existed before we did, that they had dreams and hopes that perhaps becoming a mother dashed, yet they cared for us so much.
Wonderful to read this story. Thank you so much for sharing:)
Oh son, oh son has been my mother once
compassioned one , timeless wisdom we share.
My appreciation for your story and honesty is beyond words.
As a Wannebe Buddhist, I find it extremely helpful to read and hear stories like this. Though you seem extremely clean in your thoughts and way of approachings things, compared to a horrible being like me, then it gives so much encouragement to continue do my practice.
Thnx a lot Rinpoche!!!
Great thankyou Rinpoche,not easy that childhood….
Ô Rinpoche! My harmonic heart opens so wide in light of your incredible lifestream. As no other. _((( )))_
I found this very poignant. Thank you, Rinpoche.
This post had tremendous meaning for me because I have had brief points of contact Jampal Rinpoche, Dungse Rinpoche and you. I’ve driven past the house your mother lived in, in her later years in Bhutan. Although you don’t know me, I feel like a fly on your wall. And I’m truly overjoyed you are understanding sexism more and more. A lot of it is subtle in Tibetan Buddhism, even in the West. Please look at it again and again, Rinpoche. I confess I was mad when I saw your shedra in Bir with no place for nuns. Later I thought I could be wrong—perhaps there’s no interest in shedra amongst the nuns. Perhaps you are concerned that people’s soft practice-heart of faith not be killed by scholasticism. It’s not for me to judge. Be well!
Nevermind–don’t post the above letter by me. It serves no purpose.
thanks so much for another chapter. my business is centered all around the usefulness of iodine. a properly functioning thyroid is very important. lugols.com
Just like lha, there is a bond between mother and child that is not easily defined or explained (and perhaps not necessarily defined by DNA either). Perhaps– this strong bond is why female buddhas are rare? Giving up a young child for what is deemed a greater purpose is an act of selflessness that is quite rare in the modern world. It is so refreshing to have someone in a public arena write so meaningfully about their lives. Please continue.
Love and gratitude!
Very moving, Rinpoche! Grateful for these various entries to see your reflections on life, seeing how they reflect upon our own perceptions of our personal narrative. I laughed out loud a little reading about the drooling.. I sometimes do too, as a matter of fact.. ha! May your activities flourish continuously without boundary!
i find your and Jampal Dorje Rinpoche’s drooling extremely comforting, like ASMR. I also loved the way Jampal Dorje Rinpoche wore his mala like a string of spare bullets across his chest. I only met your mother once and if it was around the time she was robbed in Jorpati I feel very very bad about it because we ingies should have made certain she was safer. Your mother was exceedingly brave and self reliant, as you say. In much the same way you are amazing, Lama la, writing so skillfully too. With a deep bow i thank you
💕
Thank You Rinpoche so much for sharing Your memories of Your childhood, and thank You for taking the burden of being a great incarnation and for continuously spreading the precious dharma and make it accessible for us students of western countries!
Dear Rinpoche,
Such a funny synchronicity! I stumbled across your post today, this Duchen day, and here are some of the parallels…my dog ate the torma off the shrine this morning, I had to cancel a much-needed and wanted surgery on Monday due to it being too much for my family as another family member needs surgery Tuesday, then I received a call from a different Dr that I need to start a medicine immediately before they have all the results back next week due to the nature of the partial findings… I wonder what will happen next? I do know I will go practice some more. Thank you Rinpoche.
Hi Rinpoche, Your aspiration to go beyond logic and beyond superstition reminds me of a story I was told by a very logical man, at least so I thought. He is a Geshe in s. India and taught me about 21 types of emptiness. During that time we went on a walk around his monastery grounds and he pointed out three car-sized divots explaining that they were the place where three fire balls had landed. Fire balls? Yes, fire balls flung by a neighboring Nyingma monastery that was jealous of the quick pace at which his monastery was growing during early days of development! So, I think the connection between logic and superstition is really interesting.
_()_ <3
I read half of this and then got interrupted and had to break off for a while. Was so eager to get back to finish it. Not many writings have that effect on me. Thankyou Rinpoche, and the writing style is absorbing and sort of ‘elegant’ but not formal also. Love it.
I pray famous Elephant that big Mouse tells to unbelievable Gecko how same soul as Mum is sharing here among Frogs for you to come soon beloved Rinpoche.
Rinpochhe kheno. _/\__/\__/\_
This came to mind…
https://youtu.be/82I12bKofdg
Dear Rinpoche
The Episode Ten melted my heart from the first line to the last one.
You are so generous by sharing with us your life story behind-the-scenes. Deeply felt.
To you beloved Rinpoche and to your Mum I prostrate _(())_
Thank you for sharing. In our later years it seems we are able to ponder and reflect, contemplating the memories of times gone by. Parents whom devotedly assured our connections to Living Masters and to profound teachings. How lucky we are to have had such good fortune. How sweet of you to share your memoirs Rinpoche. Thank you for being so kind to so many, and for holding the stream of Chokyi Lodro’s continuum. Your totally awesome.
Thank you, Rinpoche.
She was a great Mum, a great Khandro, and her life is an inspiring teaching of “no I, no personal”！
Without the reference of “self”, superstition is logic; Impossible is possible; parting is non-parting; wave is ocean; non-virtue is virtue; scolding is love; boundary is space; renunciation is openness; distraction is concentration; impermanence is continuation. Karma is none other than a coincidence, a spontaneous blessing…
May all be auspicious!
Rinpoche, the depth of your telling is completed with this light sence of humor and refreshing self-irony;
socalled me is loving that 🙂
Carry on, your long life through.
Great laugh from the depth of the heart
_()_
Just amazing! Such an uncanny parallel in your mother’s story to my own history….the loss of what seemed like a great deal of money and the subsequent reactions of mind and body. I think I understand her experience. Thank you, Rinpoche, for these precious glimpses of your life. They are such beautiful treasures.
If you never spoke anything before or after this, this alone is enough to compel all entities, sentient and otherwise, fully awakened and otherwise, with and without material forms, ideas both thinkable and unthinkable, past present future… to quiver and shiver and melt in thankfulness and salutation and love for you.
how can i get soft copy
Of what?
Digital memory…..
It’ s really good, so sweet, so touching. Thanks Teaching !
Om mani padme hum for your mom, dear Rinpoche la. It was so beautiful to read about your mom and see her photos. Mom is the first person, who gives us life. It is a blessing for us all, that you enter our lives.
Thank you Rinpoche.
🙏 Every episode I read, it gives me immense joy and happiness. Thank you rinpoche.
I keep wondering how could one express a situation so beautiful and clear. Some sentences I keep reading again. I even note down the part of the story in my notes. Simply amazing.
The story has the combinition of simplicity, truth, practicality all the goodness of life. Thank you once again.🙏
Rinpoche: thank you for this heartfelt, uplifting, hilarious account. I love your “Mum” for having you, and all of life’s mysterious movements. Keep teaching please 🙏
…because I can tell a story of being seperated early from my mother, and finally being at peace with the fact that this wound will never heal:
I kind of suspect the tibetain “holy people” arround the tile of the first Karmapa to have created the Tulku system, which inflicts an unhealing wound by purpose on beings, so that they have no other choice, but to give their life and love to everyone, because they can’t establish a wholsome relationship with just one person. The “basic relationship habit” is distroyed, couldn’t develop.
At the same time they gave (still give?) those kids an education to use their wound, this ever lasting dribbling pain to benefit others… I do believe that. It’s so unbeleavable cruel and so straight forward loving at the same time…. mybe that’s what happens in a future life if one takes a bodhisattva vow, with full intention…better think twice, if it’s not too late.
Interresting theorie by looking throug the sunglass of psychology; emotionaly the answer to this pain is just compassion.
It might be no question, if one is chosen to be such and that.
So there is no point of return, no too late, no too early, just this & now.
Thank You, dear Lama.
Not to be superstitious but just as I finished reading this, it seemed I could briefly smell incense, the kind that you smell often in Gonpas. It made me think maybe your mother and Yeshe Tsogyal are not so far away. Or maybe this is all just the result of a mind half asleep! Thank you for your writings and your teachings, for everything. Please live a very long time and may all your aims be achieved!
In these uncertain times, can you take a chapter to describe the different types of Buddhism, how they arised and some of the main differences that may have given rise to the different sects and how you were educated about it during your training?
As i was a child , i wished that my parents will never die – or if they have to, it will be in a time, when i will be quite old enough to stand it.
Today my mother wish me a pleasant journey to Kathmandu and Bhutan.
Me, a western in the end of my fifties, i am gratefull to experience all this : to be still alive with my parents, to go to such places to celebrate the heartconnection to the Buddhas and Bodhisattvas. I will think to your grandfather by circeling the great Stupa – and of course to you, dear Rinpoche.
Dear Rinpoche la,
Fortunately, your precious father’s scoldings have penetrated and transformed each one of us who was blessed with his care, has it not? I cannot feel anything but completely blessed by it as it changed the very fabric of my being, however difficult it was to understand or suffer through. Your precious Yab Rinpoche scolded those of us who had true faith in him or for whom he was responsible or close to, or for whom he wished to perfect the highest dharma. His responsibility towards you was enormous.
I remember in around 1987, standing by the window with you in what is now Kyabje Khyentse Yangsi Rinpoche’s room and you indicated towards your most precious Mayum, who was walking through the monastery courtyard towards the entrance, about to come and see you. You said, “She is a real dakini,” something you uttered to me only once before, when your previous life’s sangyum, Khandro Tsering Chodron, had come to stay at Shechen Gompa from Sikkim, and you took me before her.
Your precious Mayum was so utterly humble and dignified, simple and kind. Thanks to the merit of being blessed and connected with you, I had the opportunity to spend a day with her, to help her change dollars to Rupees in Kathmandu, on one of her visits to Nepal. She gave me a hand woven Bhutanese basket, which I still have.
Your brother, Jampal Dorje Rinpoche, who manifests his other namesake, Jnana Siddhi, in waking life is a true renunciate-yogi-wisdom being. We love and see his extraordinary qualities, for which the drool is just an adornment, and his kindness too is enormous.
The world is so complicated and we sentient beings have become so complicated, too. If we could return to the simplicity, grace and dignity that your precious Mayum perfectly manifested, it would be a great achievement. As Yab Rinpoche often told me, “Don’t be so busy!”
I pray to meet you again in this life! Please protect me with your blessings!
Sending so much gratitude for your kindness, with unceasing devotion, love and prayers,
Dana
E ma ho
Poor was she. Thank you for recall the memory of her, Rinpoche.
Namaste Mimsab & Sahhib,
Tashi Delek,
Cosmopolitan is never really a word from yours or my mind.
Your informations of a non-violent Ama has taken my suffering & hung me back from samsara.
Sincerly,
Cha.ri.la, the daughter of Charli.nang.wa
I love your love for your mother, even if you didn’t tell her in words…
So inspiring la Rinpoche🙏🙏🙏
Tukteche Rinpoché Im deeply touched by the way You pay full respect to Your dear Mother and women/mothers in general.Such an excellent Example You describe so full of Love.
Tashi Delek and thanks beyond words dear Rinpoche la
Infinite gratitude unutterable
For allowing us to enter the mandala of Mayum’s memory
And to glimpse the transformation of an ill omen to the blessing of her pure practitioner’s wisdom breaking through
even as she seemed to lose her light
May the radiance of her form that became you
be a cloak of love that carries uncountable beings into the warmth of Bodhicitta
Please guide us in your current form long on this Earth
Maybe Mothers are Buddhas. Maybe so sacred it is not talked about, even a difficult Mother can be a sort of intense zen master training. I was never a mother so I don’t know. I don’t worship motherhood but I think it is an enlightened activity
Freud lineage, I don’t know. he had issues with the Mother blame thing
Thank you Rinpoche for your beautiful honest sharing. They are all true treasures, but this one was so very personally beneficial as I struggle with the arrogance of logic, skepticism and rational thinking. While I read, I had the epiphany that this identity I have put myself in is so very limiting. It has prevented me from committing to a practice and keeps me in misery, suffering. You reach me in ways with your clarity and honesty that no one else has. I love your humor too. Thank you!
Thank you for the true memories of your mother Rinpoche🙏🙏🙏
Thank you so much Rinpoche la for sharing your personal life and experiences.
Most Precious Rinpoche : tears came to my eyes as I was reading You describing the loneliness and sorrow You could perceive in Your Mother : She was certainly a great pracitioner ! It is strange how You speak of emptiness and speak of auspicious situations , inauspicious ones , and women Rights when You criticize me caring for Human Rights : but is n’it a bodhisattva’s duty to care for suffering human beings ? That ‘s why I can’t leave standing by Palestinians , nor defending Julian Assange , Aaron Swartz versus all these lying criminal U.S and others leaders pretending to incarnate ” Freedom ” and Democracy ” …it is strange that You speak of Your father’s scoldings …..as Yours always paralized me and I did not understand where they were coming from ! …though it is true that we had many reasons and situations of not understanding each other’s situation ! I thank You to have send Your Mother to Paris ! I wish I could have been in a better situation to receive her ! Had You written before I would have adviced You not to come to Paris in winter time especially for the first time ! I remember how You were freezing and we would enter any cinema to be warm and You baught a coat with camel hair in Saint-Germain des Près in a shot that is not there anymore . We walked down the Champs-Elysées with Your Mother and sister Yeshe , her son who was young ( we celebrated his 4rth birthday some time later when tye came back and lama Gyurme intvited us to his center in Normandy ). and Jacqueline , Your father’s student with her husband all the way to the Louvres and the passerelle du Pont des Arts . You Mother was looking at people wearing long coats at the time , as we were walking down the Champs-Elysées , she found it funny and told me that ” She was wearing long dress as Paris Fashion ! ” She offered me some stones of her which I put in my mala and always think of her when ever they are in my hands . I remember how I had returned home after Jacqueline’s phonecall telling me she was in Paris , I had rushed to meet her and we all had gone to a Chinese restaurant : I could hear the phone ringing as I walked out of the elevator , I rushed and when I heard Your voice asking me for Your sister and telling me You were her brother , as I knew there was 7 kids in the family , I did not figure out it could be You speaking so I asked You Your name , and You did not answer ! ….it was after hanging the phone that I realize it was You ! …it was too late to phone Your sister as I did not want to wake up the kids . When earlier Jacqueline had phoned saying Your Mother was in Paris , I told her I had received a telegramme from You ( I still have it somewhere though the words have fade away but I remember exactly what they said : ” Dzongsat Khyentse is in Switzerland with a phone number : when I told Yeshe I had called that number many times in was ringing but not answering : she had told me : ” it’s impossible , it’s my number and there is always someone there ! ” so we had compare the one on the telegram and hers that how we found out one number was missing on the telegram ! and she had phoned her home : You were out and You had called me back in the evening …..and I did not understand it was You who introduced Yourself as Yeshé’s brother ! …the ” funny ” thing is that when Jacqueline had phoned , I was about to go to the post office with a letter for You in my hand : I had phone a friend who had left Kagyu Dzong to become a monk with Geshe Rabten to tell him I had got this message from You and the phone wasn’t answering if he could find out where You could be ( it was around Christmas time and I thought You could be in some Dharma center somewhere in Switzerland ) so he had phone me to say this number I had on the telegram belonged to a person who had just move and he gave me that person’s address and I had just wriiten to You at this person’s place : I don’t know how one number missing could have been someone else’s number , but that’s what had happend ! ….I think You were often angry at me for wrong understand and certainly me to You ! ….but as You say links between Mother and Child are unbreakable what ever happen ( my daughter too just broke with me , she does’nt like me inquiring about her who is alone in New-York in the situation we know !!! ) but I share Your feeling that nothing can separate a mother from her child not a child from her Mother ……and not a student from one’s Teacher despite what ever happened nor how long they’ve been apart ! Hoping to see You in Bodh-Gaya this winter …..though I’m afraid to make projects : I have to fix the roof of my house ( we also had heavy rains in soutnern France these last days ….;and the cieling fell off in the attik near my room….and I also have two cats now whose mother came through the roof window of my room last June to give them birth there and left them to my care ! they follow me like my shadow , and even if there are place to care for cats , they’re very expensive , and I have a very limited budget to do what ever for years : the onlything i wanted to do is live and practice near You : so as You said in parting from the four attachment one is nothing if one has no job, etc I lost my job when I left Bir and had no plan to become anything else ! keep Well ! Thanks for sharing Your memories with Your Precious Mother .
PLEASE, Please, Rinpoche: Put these priceless memories in the coves of a book. It’s all fantastic, not only as a record of “old” Tibet, its folkways, etc., but it also puts us into the presence of some of the most realized beings ever to have existed.
I don’t pretend to understand your mind, but I love what it produces!
In the Dharma, Victoria Dolma
Thanks to someone, I get to read this wonderful autobiography of Rinpoche. Very moved by what Rinpoche has written about his mother. Wish I can give empathy hugs to Rinpoche. The content is mixed with joy, sorrow, humour, rebellion nature and what’s not. Truly great!!!
These stories are so special; I cried while reading. Thank you for writing them and leaving behind.
good morning Rinpoche! thanks you.
🙏🙏🙏🌹🌸🌼🌷🌻🌺💕❤️🌹🌼🌸🌷🌻🌺💕❤️🌹🌼🌸🌷🌻🌺💕❤️🌹
I have read this story earlier and today again, it is so beautiful, deep and touching and so helpful, everything you produce is a teaching, thank you Rinpoche!
lh**************@gm***.com
💐✨🌷🙏
Dear Rinpoche, I just wanted to let you know that Santa Claus (as per the NORAD tracking system) flew over Lhasa at the exact same time you were giving your teaching on December 24 in New York to the young Tibetan community. Life is full of magic and wonder. Merry Christmas and may all your wishes come true!
💐💎💎💎☀️💎💎💎💐
By now, I have read few of these episodes. Every episode is simply enchanting and heart-licking-good!
Dear Rinpoche, some of us look upon the stars and the planets to find meaning and wonder. On June 4th, and very close to your 2024 birthday, an enchanting “Venus Cazimi” is taking place. In the heart of the of the Sun, Venus is. May love and peace be with you always. Happy Birthday!!!