I have not a single doubt that I am Buddha. This certainty is not a result of reading texts, such as the Uttaratantra, where it says that my defilements are temporary and not my true nature; I am not one of those people who has the wit to rely on logic and reasoning, I am too suspicious of this self who is doing the relying. No, I believe I am a Buddha because my masters have told me I am a Buddha, again and again. I am one of those lazy beings who enjoys affirmation from others, especially affirmation from my masters. But keep in mind that my masters also said all beings are Buddha.
Alas, even though I am Buddha, this Buddha is cocooned like a silkworm. My silky cocoon is endless, delicate, and colorful. This cocoon is mind. And I am stuck with this mind, just as I am stuck with a bent ear and a mole on my upper lip. I suppose for the bent ear and the mole on my lip, I could go to Seoul to have them altered to near perfection. As for altering or removing mind, it’s altogether a different matter.
If this mind stayed idle, frozen, it would be a different ballgame, but that’s not the case. This mind keeps on painfully cognizing, irritatingly noticing, frustratingly feeling, agonizingly knowing, uncontrollably judging, hopelessly confirming, and deceptively empathizing, on and on, incessantly. This mind also keeps on leisurely misunderstanding, easily making misassumptions, blindly miscuing and simply missing the Buddha all the time. This mind is like a domesticated monkey who knows all the tricks his captor has taught—to dance and to do somersaults—but who doesn’t seem to have a clue how to take off the leash that binds him. Wouldn’t it be better to be a stone or a piece of wood? That is if we could choose. I don’t even want to be a Philip K. Dick android, even they suffered from something akin to empathy.
I may have painted a picture of the mind as something deluded and uncooperative, even malicious, but all is not lost. The mind can be useful. As much as the mind is a cocoon, the mind is also the path that will lead to the Buddha. It is the mind that does the longing for the Buddha. It is the mind that admires the Buddha. When the mind is cornered by suffering, the mind longs to be awakened and be free. When this mind interacts with the world, from the moment it enters until it exits, it does so through seeing, smelling, tasting, hearing, feeling, and knowing, leading to myriad games, colors, shapes, and hues. And like a murderer leaving a bloodstain, as mind pervades and conquers the world, the mind always leaves an imprint.
As subtle as it may be, when the mind dances through the cognizance of smell, it carves the deepest imprint. It’s not tangible, yet leaves such a strong impression. Even after decades have passed, every time I use Pears soap, memories of Lama Sonam Zangpo, my mother’s father, come alive. I can’t remember what his towel looked like, but this scent of Pears is so vivid. And the smell of burning juniper, mugwort, and incense remind me of him making offerings every morning. The smell of barley reminds me of the evenings when he offered sur. Among the recipients of this offering are beings called terang. They are believed to be goblins whose suffering is an addiction to hiding people’s belongings as a prank. They get so intertwined by this prank playing that they forget to eat for eons and they are always hungry.
My grandfather was a yogi. He never owned a big house. He moved around constantly. I remember in one of the homes he lived, he stayed in a room so small the bed barely fit inside. Next to his bed was a wall and the wall had a small portal from which he could look into the adjoining room where everything happened. People would sit there and receive teachings from Lama Sonam Zangpo through this hole. If he was to meet dignitaries or other visitors, he did so in the same way. They could barely see him through that hole.
It is believed that he never really lay down to sleep like a normal human being, which I cannot confirm because I was always asleep before him. Early in the morning when I woke up he would already be sitting doing prayers or meditating or commissioning a painting or whatever else. Everything happened from his bed. Toward the end of his life, he barely walked around. Early in the morning when we all woke up, his attendant Tsokola would bring a large pail filled with luke warm water and he would wash his face right on his bed using Pears soap. That’s the only soap I remember him using.
Now, after 50 years, even when I see the brownish translucence of a bar of Pears soap, I can recall the smell and I am taken right into that tiny room in Hontsho, Thimphu, or even to an earlier place called Kulikata. Also the smell of cows and cow dung always takes me back to my childhood as our family owned a few cows. And coriander, ginger and chili, take me to Dewathang and memories of my grandmother making Bhutanese chili salad.
Obviously not all smells bring good memories. Even after all these years, every time an Indian truck barrels by, the clouds of exhaust bring unpleasant memories I have of travelling from Phuntsholing to Thimphu in the back of the truck. I made this journey several times many years ago and it would take three days; a journey that can now be achieved in just four hours. But maybe that smell of exhaust is so unsettling because soon after I was recognized as a tulku when I was a young child, I had to bid farewell to my grandparents. They walked with me for a day to the nearest road where a flatbed truck awaited. Through a cloud of exhaust, we drove off, as the image of my grandmother crying on the roadside receded.
It is believed that all the greatest masters have a distinctive scent. Their discipline of not harming and diligently always helping others is so strong that it manifests as a fragrance: the fragrance of right conduct. This mysterious scent could be detected in Kyabje Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche’s room. Of course, many other scents from different substances filled the room. The endless rituals and initiations performed there required burning so much incense. Kyabje Rinpoche was one of the biggest propagators of the incense from the Mindroling tradition. He also used all different kinds of soaps and moisturizers. There was always Nivea cream in a blue tin and tubes of Boroline. But this distinctive, indescribable fragrance did not come from any of these olfactory substances. Wherever he manifested, be it a taxi in Kathmandu or on a bench in an Indian train station, this fragrance could be traced, at least for a short time. It permeated his robes. Years after he passed away, I remember going into his chambers at Shechen Monastery in Boudanath and I would try to inconspicuously sniff his bed.
Recently, I went to La Sonnnerie in France, where Kyabje Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche had given so many teachings and where his bed is still kept as if he’s just gone out for a short visit. I entered the room and placed my head on the bed and instantly, nearly thirty years later, the memory of the smell came back. Probably it was my mind playing tricks. Nevertheless, this memory of a smell was enough to bring back the reminder that, no matter how I roam in this delusion, I am the Buddha. I am the Buddha.
If one knows how to use the cocoon, to unravel the thread and use it as a guide, it can lead us to the awakened state. Emulating the great Saraha, I pay homage to the jewel-like mind, cocoon that it may be.
Featured Image: Buddha TV by South Korean artist Nam June Paik
Precious!!! Thank you again, Rinpoche…
I love ur writing that takes ideas and like a river meanders along the countryside revealing fascinating things which in end clarify the concept you are revealing. You write beautifully. Thankyou, your writing is a warm and nourishing beverage like hot chocolate.
Where you able to witness the Jerusalem syndrome on your recent trip?
How beautiful and worth reading this book la rinpoche…seeing u in reality vibrates my body and thanks to karma for giving me chance to c u la rinpoche…i agree to karmic connection la rinpoche….
_/\_ <3
Thank you for talking about your grandfather. I grew up hearing about him.
Thank You la
Just as Kyabje Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche smells pleasant memories to you, you are a fragrance to a wretched soul like me and removing the stench of ignorance from me ….
Beloved Guru thank you.bowing in gratitude to you always. May your delicious fragrance of compassion and wisdom
Permeate this lazy student and all who follow you. May your health be strong. I love you.
P.s. those goblins live in my house,hiding my false tooth, glasses cell phone.
Letting fall the lotosleaves
to your feet
_()_
Wow. Respect. Really beautyful
Thank you Rinpoche! These stories help me so much. I am near 59 and have been studying and practicing Buddhism for 45 years and yet, only now, in the past couple of years do I feel I have the tiniest bit of knowledge or gratitude for having been exposed to Dharma so young. Your presence in this world helps. I am humbly appreciative and pray we meet one day.
Same same!
Thank you la Rinpoche. Such beautiful words to awaken the Buddha in me 🙏😊
Thank you Rimpoche !
When i feel agitated or dull, i go through these episodes and reading the lines brings tears to my eyes. For me sheding tears is precious as it makes my heart warm and make me feel little compassionate. I am 29 years old and of all the tears i have shed….reading the writings of rinpoche triggered the most.
How beautiful and elegant, to show us yet another way to use mind skillfully, with such tenderness and love. Thank you, Rinpoche, always my heart Buddha.
Homage to Khyentse Rinpoche. We praying for your visit in Dzongsar this summer.
So good to read you again.Surgery seems to be good, as while recovering, people have more time to write.Pls, more.
A perfume addict.
:-))))
I have understood what Buddhism real means through your teaching, Rinpoche. “What makes you not a Buddhist” is best ever book i have read amongst all the best selling books over centuries. Your interpretation to Buddhism is much an understanable to all levels of Buddhist background. I bow you in homage, Rinpoche.🙏
Thank you so much Rinpoche for sharing such a inspiring nostalgic accounts. Thank you so much for being the Buddha for us thereby reflecting our inner Buddha.🙏🙏🙏💐💐💐
Beautifully written- again Rinpochela. Yes the smell can put you immediately to that particular time and place. ❤️ Keep shining on us dear Rinpochela. Lama Khyeno 🙏🏽Have a long and healthy life full
Of pearls💙
My heart felt squeezed reading your stories, Rinpoche with much gratitude. I’m so happy that you continue to guide us all in so many ways whether we are in your presence of not.
You are the Buddha°
Please live long Rinpoche. I pray you are free of pain. Your writing is like a subtle Summer breeze gently drifting into my essence. I offer;
“I have been close to oblivion before. My death so near, I can reach out and touch it.
Yet because of you, I return again and again. Wherever you go, I will always follow.
The heart of purity breathes the sweetness of surrender.
And this time, like all those endless times, I forever remember you.
Behind the hidden walls of time, we are never separated.
Timeless is our connection and faith our conduit.
Yielding again and again to the Truth of what is.”
Smells like love
May your odour remain for aeons!
Yes Rinpoché, smell is a very emotional sense,does it mean emotions or senses are threads through time? A poem from a Japanese Lady whose husband is taken to prison for execution ,says how her memories are like a thread of cotton she can retrace to be with him,sorry i don’t know where i read it now i’d love to share it with you.Thankyou for your rich writing.
Precious Guru, May you live long, and may your sensitive and creative touch, activities that reach beyond description,liberate countless beings!
Thank you for holding it strongly in your mind that you are the Buddha. Thank you for sharing intimate stories of how your mind has been shaped by the grace of great beings. May all beings strive for an awakened mind.
Dear Best and Only, another blessed transmission of excruciating joy and heartbreak from you. The universe dawns freshly beautiful, all poets everywhere since beginningless time surrender in love with you. Thank you, always.
Thank you for the memory :)… I love the smell of baby “shit”, makes my heart melt all the time :)…and it annoys me if I have to smell frequently the perfume of my ex husband ( not because it smells bad but because it makes me think of him, having said that he was a wonderful husband :)) hoping you are recovering well :)! Xxx
Tears, tears, tears
You are in my life my dear Buddha, my light.
Rinpoche la. And here I thought I was the only one who thought Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche had a distinct fragrance. That smell has stuck with me for a lifetime and yes, I can only smell a faint bit of it wherever Rinpoche had stayed, including my mind. It is comforting to knoe it wasn’t just my imagination la.
I haved rubbed, thought that was all. now it’s time to sniff, next time. Rinpoche
I think I remember a little of what that distinct smell was.
Chugo
Sweet butter
Mindroling incense
Bumthang juniper powder
Gugul
Bryeel cream
Nivea
Precious writing..
It Just blow off my mind..
Thank you so much..
Blessed
Glad to know Your mind is so vivid !…….
the discipline of great masters not harming and always helping confirmed my own working mind ( though I never doubted it ) and memories on some other ” teacher ” ‘s ” position” and ” qualities ”
Mind is a precious tool ……and Your memories remind us how essential is the Presence and Teachings of Great Teachers !….for mind to follow the prper Path.
Poets are precious too : I like the words of the one whose mind inspired him to write : ” I’m celebrating the Essential , i’m celebrating Your Presence ” ( …..as figuratif as it is for the last … decades ! )
Keep Your Mind in great spirit and company…..for Buddha Dharma and many Beings ‘s benefit !
🏹
🥛🥛🥛🍑🍎🍐🍊🍇🍍🍈🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼
🙏🙏🙏
Rinpoche, a shower of blessings
Perhaps it would be correct to credit Nam June Palk for the first image as he and his video art added much to the visual dialogue – even being used by a Living Buddha
Thank you Rinpoche! Tashi Delek. and may Rinpoche’s health be improving, so Rinpoche lives a long long life, and all Rinpoche’s activities be accomplished!
Like the new-moon on the dark sky
you open the world of secret fragrance
how could one ever forget
this unique expression
for those who
has been
in
presence
I love this. Thank you katrina.
The smell of wet earth after the first rainfall in a while, the beginnings of the unraveling of the cocoon.
Anesthesia can be like datura and perhaps gives more of a sense of Buddha-ism as well. Just like perhaps near death experiences which result in inundation of neurochemicals in the mind.
Science and religion have quite a bit in common–perhaps something understood by the Medicine Buddha and astrologists as well.
You may like to say that you are lazy, but ever wonder about how it came to be that you started making movies under the tutelage of Bertolucci?
Dear Rinpoche, Against all odds your illness got me to chant. And for a long time, too. Thanks for manifesting the illness, seems to have opened hearts.
It is endearing to hear of Lama Sonam Zangpo’s preferences.
Nothing quite matches the smell of a bar of Pears soap, rinpoche… :3
Kadrinchey for so generously unravelling the silken threads as you whirl and twirl in the fragrances from the so called past.
So beautiful, profound and inspiring. Heart filled with gratitude and with teary eyes there is no words to thank you Rinpoche la.Even though did not have the good fortune to meet with your greats masters but you invoke their presence and blessings and fragrance in me through your beautiful and profound Dharma writings. Homage to you Rinpoche and all your great masters. Please bless me and all others like me so that we too can recognise our Buddha nature. Pray for your long life and speedy recovery from the surgery.Take care la we need you Rinpoche.
So grateful Rinpoche for all that you share!
Movies have such stories to tell. Even Hollywood is susceptible to outside messaging whether it be Wall Street interests or something else.
Keep on writing and teaching Rinpoche. I am listening and learning more on buddhism. I can comfortably say I have gained a little understanding and I hope to be a buddhist practioner from more of your writings and teachings. Than you !
Rinpoche, so happy that such good memories of Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche’s fragrance stay here in France. Please come again and again to fulfill the air of your Bouddha smell.
Oh boy ….
any word would fail –
so take a smile
reflecting on this
chatterbox display
:))
Thank you Rinpoche for reminding that this cocoon is the Buddha.
Hindu Kush Cantor
Cranes flying over mountains
Lost termas revealed
When you once left Berlin after teaching at small Wannsee,you left a rainjacket behind, which i passed on to my then still young son. Jasper took it, sniffed the inside and immediately said: “Oh, it smells like Tibetan inscence” – maybe he meant ‘Bhutanese’?
Haunted by coincidences. He must be omniscient.
Thank you Rinpoche, I’ve been waiting for each of these installments. They are inspirational, insightful, and beautifully written.
Thank you, Rinpoche
Somehow answers come in unexpected way, so magic -.
By the way, your f.b. foto reminds me to
the exposed car of Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche
in his garden –
diving deep down from the surface of memories,
to be unseparable.
***
Last summer we were graced by the presence of our Master, Kulavadhuta Satpurananda, here in the U.S. I remember one afternoon we were driving in the car on our way home from dinner (or was it evening and we were walking by the lake?) and suddenly I detected a beautiful smell, like that of sandalwood mixed with rose and honey. It was a nearly indescribable perfume; both floral and musky, of Earth and Ether equally. I turned to Baba and His attendant, my Vajra sister Ma Shodashi Prajna, and asked, “Is someone wearing sandal perfume?” They both looked at me blankly, shaking their heads. “No one put-on some sweet smelling lotion?” I persisted. “No,” they answered. “New shampoo?” “Nope.” But I intuitively knew the authentic source of the fragrance, and it wasn’t from a manufactured substance or anything else applied externally.
Baba had explained years ago that when an exalted being has purified all of his or her chakras through the ascending practice, and then has come down from the state of Ati Yoga in the descending path to unfurl the chakras, a magical perfume is emitted from the person’s body. “Magical” only because it is a spiritual essence that can’t be explained or quantified by empirical standards. I have often smelled this alluring, yet comforting aroma coming from my Master. Even as we dripped sweat, covered in a thin veneer of road dust, from walking in the Maharastra heat, it was there. Even among that Howrah potpourri of piss and cigarettes and diesel and Pan juice, boarding the Darjeeling Mail as we made our way overnight to NJP. At the cremation ground amidst the wafting barbecue or in a wayside momo shop, the smell was there. In truth, on that day last summer, I already knew the source when I turned to them and asked, but I wanted to give my objective mind a chance to prove the heart wrong, a tactic that rarely yields a satisfying result in my experience.
And that smell of the diesel and the winding roads and its unpleasant shout in our memories: “Remember your suffering!” This is a great lesson. I’ll never forget the first and last time I set eyes on Chatral Sangye Dorje Rinpoche: After three weeks lingering in Pharping and missing chance after chance to meet with Him, due to various mishaps, Rinpoche’s failing health, and my incapability to observe Ma Saraswati’s strict appointment schedule, we had left Nepal unfulfilled, unable to receive the face-to-face blessing we had been wishing for. We returned to the hermitage in Sikkim near the end of monsoon and it was back to life as normal, until we needed to leave again a few weeks later to meet my in-laws at Bagdogra. They were coming to visit us in India for the first time. So we departed from Gangtok in a share jeep, 14 people crammed together…you know how it is. I was sitting in the back seat, facing the rear of the vehicle, and as the driver whipped around those curves through endless clouds of diesel exhaust, I grew increasingly nauseous. By the time we passed Sevoke and came over the river along that final stretch on our way into Siliguri, I was about ready to spew chunks, so I began chanting the Vajra Guru mantra over and over and over again, in a low growl, as much to feel the soothing vibration in my guts as out of any sense of devotion.
We slowed down behind a line of vehicles waiting at the railroad crossing near Salugara. I looked up, facing behind the jeep, and saw in the vehicle directly behind us, the radiant, majestic, smiling face of an ancient man, His face weathered in brown leather, with a white beard, wearing a maroon beanie, t-shirt and lunghi; you know: His regular attire. He was leaning over to the driver and laughing with a child seated in the backseat, a young monk. The driver was dressed in lama clothing too. There were two women in the backseat. It was clearly and unmistakably Chatral Rinpoche. I practically gasped with surprised, and began weeping. He looked forward and we made eye contact for one eternal moment, before His jeep suddenly turned off Sevoke Road, out of sight in a cloud of dust.
WOW
Thankyou ,a,fantastic story !
i love it ,you are blessed!!!
Dearest Rinpoche,
is it a blasphemy if I suggest the making of a film from a big nice Sutra?
Thanks
Thank you very much Rinpoché for your precious teaching that you share with us .
Emaho you are beloved saraha eternally and blissfully, thank you for your generosity
Val F:
How your words are Leading us to accumulate the Devotion of Inseparability urging frozen emotions to melt into wisdom, the over used word of Thankyou is embarrassingly inadequate but Thank You Rinpoche!
I will always remember marigolds in the moonlight and dancing Indian maidens. your precious gift of deathlessness. Deer Park last year
Rinpochhey, I visited the holy mugwort you referred in the introduction of this episode. It is heaven on earth. I am fortunate to be serving in this locality. We are now making a good mule track connecting, Ney Tsachhu, Khempa Jong and even Yonten Kuenjong from Jasabi, Dungkar. Please consider visiting la. Also shower your unconditional love and blessing to this Dzongkhag.
Thank You Mr Jambay Wangchuk
My parents come from this place called Ugyen Pho (cave above Jasabi). They often talk of Khempa Jong and Yonten Kuenjung. It is nice to know that mule track is being put in place. Maybe it is done by now.
Regards
Dear Honorable Rinpoche,
Thank you for explaining about the lost items. As a child my parents would threaten to temporarily take my things if they weren’t kept in order. Sometimes my personal things would just disappear and I would find them weeks later on my made-up bed. My other meditation teachers had told me that there were spirits in our house, but its interesting to know exactly what was happening.
Best regards.
Rub an essential oil into your palm and your outside hand will equally emit the fragrance. Scents do permeate us as much as thoughts can do.
I hope to encounter you in this life and be blessed by you, equally as you have been blessed by your masters, your ancestry and lineage.
Please live long Guruji. Please remember Guruji. I pray.
Let go of outlook’s razor-edge and rest.
Step out of deep practice’s cozy cocoon and rest.
Break out of behavior’s constricting conventions and rest.
Throw away expectations for dramatic results and rest.
Oh gosh … will read it – !
May be will feel the kuebler-rossness too.
Confidently warm regards ***
The thread of the cocoon ….
reminds to Ariadne in greec mythologie.
Yes, may it be so.
I love how this is listed under “skills.” 💕
This reminds me of an audience I had with His Holiness Sakya Trichen. I said to him “You are Buddha.” His reply, ” I am no different than you.” Thank you Rinpoche.
Wooooohm !!!
Being ear
receiving
the sound of
life
being mind
remembering
sunandmoonlike
smile
being here and now
love is
_()_
Dear Rinpoche la.
This episode is beautiful…..Ican´t use the smell to bring back the memories of the Great Masters as you can but your memories are like the warm breath of the entire Linage Masters in my heart and ear. Deep gratitude. _(())_
Precious Rinpoche la,
The lights and shadows on your sunglasses are so cool 🙂 _(())_
Precious memories shared once again! May you live long in excellent health. It is my only hope that I will have the merit to meet you one day. Thank you, Rinpoche, for remaining with us and continuing to be a beacon of certainty in this confusing reality.
speechless, Rinpoche… thank you beyond words, for all that you are and all that you do, beyond words.
I too know you are a Buddha. Since you and my other teachers have told me I am also Buddha I think at times they must be right. But…with more moments of confusion than awake it is not so easy to remember.
Your absence has gone through me
Like thread through a needle.
Everything I do is stitched with its color.
— W. S. Merwin
“It is believed that all the greatest masters have a distinctive scent.”
“If one knows how to use the cocoon, to unravel the thread and use it as a guide, it can lead us to the awakened state.”
Reflecting on these two quotes make me think of all the departed spiritual masters whose scent are continuously imbuing the thread of the cocoons so that we may unravel it with wisdom.
The absence of the old Masters, along with the presence of those living, can potentially pass through us like scented thread through the eye of a needle and serve its next purpose.
Always thinking of you Rinpoche — but your name is quite long and the acronym too impersonal. Therefore, we name you Truth Rinpoche and that sounds just right to us.
Thanks for helping so many of us. Much love.
How hard to bear –
mids of the end of a thread
and the dust in the wind
(just my limited projection)
and far from the real fragrant sniff
thank you for encouraging
to go beyond
all imagery
and thahk you
staying in imagery
for the sake of communication
With limitless gratitude & love
May it shine through
blissed
cyper-space
lotos-ones
:))
I am deeply touched and thank you Rimpochey again /\
Happy birthday, dear Rinpoche
may be you enjoy between the games
this beautyfull flight with fitting music:
Pink Floyd – Cluster one/marooned :))
Long life full of light to you.
Extremely beautiful. Very helpful. My mind liked it, my heart feels gratitude for you. May my senses have again the privilege of catching the colors, the air, the sounds coming from your actual presence on this earth. May it be soon. May I see you always happy and may us, your students, always be a source of happiness for you. May my mind always find its way to you so the Buddha in you greets the Buddha in me.
Masterpiece indeed – how slightly setting the points; for example Coka Cola, the Big Ben playing clock, the monks sound in Kyoto. Also great acting, fully emotional range. Thank you for pointing to, dear Rinpoche.
Wish you the best for your Buddha-film !
It’s amazing the story a painting can tell. Or even an expressionless mask.
Wauw! Dear RinpocheLa, thank you very much for sharing your wisdom view! This episode (11) is wonderful and is touching me deeply.
All episodes of ‘Mugwortborn’ are such a blessing! With humble gratitude I bow at your lotus feet.
Sorry, I meant episode 12
Thankyou Rinpoche once again ,so raw ,so honest ,so touching !
Apparently lost
in illusory Monsun ?
99% unmoved by
wordly concerns
practicing the 1(%)-pointed
non-longiness
bla bla bla
gentle voice returns
Eagerly waiting for the next episode. ☺️☺️
Deeply listening
to my breath
for a sign
of life from
Buddha
Wellcome back to marketplace
_()_ _()_ _()_
flying and singing
for you
Rinpoche,
dont that we expect another chapter …
but knowing, this has not been “it”
humbly receiving
what so´ever is given – or not.
Unmeasured activity
unmeasured benefit
unmeasured down bow
***
I am starting to be more interested not in enlightenment but what it does to people especially in vajrayana. Sometimes you meet teachers that inspire you to the skies but when you get to know them … you start to wonder … what was the point? they are no better then average joe when things get out of their natural situation…
Who is it who has the expectation
who is it who is inspired
who is it who bring up this fullness
of non-average titels
and who is using words
out of silent vastness
To quote Hema Hema,
“what can you do when you are unknown”
Don’t go looking for an identity as it will only open a portal of grief. Who can be a mosaic that takes on many forms?
Slowly stepping through
finishing the Woody chapter
just have to say
thank you, Rinpoche
in the name of all Woodys.
May we think big
facing what ever may arrise
I really love reading these stories. I read them over and over. Sometimes when I’m lonely and miss you I find it helps – it’s comforting and I feel closer to you. Sometimes I feel even sadder but I do still feel closer. Thanks for sharing and reaching out this way. I look forward to the next episode. Please tell another.
Quadrodox … Rinpoche, uncomparable !!
Thank you again, unmeassurable !
Can dogs break out of the circle of samsara and achieve animal Bodhisatva-hood? I have met some dogs with better cognitive abilities as well as compassion than some people, so why make them go through another cycle?
Thank you for praying this transitory collection
to sleep 😉
Ha ha, for the sake of all beings-
happy new year, Rinpoche!
May your aspirations be completly fullfilled;
happy to join in a few days
in “real” time and different
place.
Sku, gsung, thugs, yon tan, ‘phrin las.
Impermanence and emptiness.
How do these concepts come together in cultures where success at all costs seems to rule supreme? People get drunk on their own self-importance and ability to manipulate lesser beings.
Aspiration to have no aspiration
just be in the isness
helping confedently
letting work out
and blossom
out of mudyness
pure and shining
gratefull receiving
from beings who are walking the talking
***
… if there ever had been a tale, would surely remember, all goes downhill, dear Rinpoche – humor is saving. And who knows about future-tales ?
Now would be the right time to call and hear “hello”.
Thank you for sharing, dear Rinpoche.
How vast rain of blessing
on the rippels
of the ocean
gratefull aware
***
May they know they are me ….
out of hundrets
one is in my mind
Rinpoche, defenetly not a feel-good-path – thank you for every single word you gave.
Namtok – nothing left so say.
Have a good by-heart whatever.
yes, may love and admiration
not diminish
but expend more and more
letting fall flowers
to his feet
happy losar
Transitory desertness …
Rime Movement. Concepts are not meant to be idolized or followed blindly by those seeking nirvana.
Happy year of the Earth Pig. For everything there is a time and a place……
… watch the one who watches the blindly following seeker <3
To Manjushris feet !
Kindly aware of the lonely, bored longer.
… and the quietness
This imagination of bathroom browsing Buddha
is contributing to happiness;
rejoicing regards, pulling nets thread
Next fullmoon in the water
or once in a blue moon
who knows
but now
bright, shining, complete
inside the heart
***
By letting go
the one and only illusion
there`s no one
who could be
enlightened
but
enlightenment
poems popping up
and dissolve
but
remaining truth
never change
with love & gratitude
Patience
again
and
again
for
the
time being
till the yearning
for echos
will be
exhausted
in your footsteps
…or the last skin will be peeled off
praying for it
gratitude
By hearing well your encouragement
by loving , by having aspiration
by confedently giving space
to the lacking confidence
may i be able
for the long run
of Äons
in timelessness
where never has been
any illusion
for the sake of all beings
Cornered in wits end
sitting mids of gaps
ears wide open
The big yearn
the small me
like clouds
passing
Laughing like a horse, writomaniacly squeaking .
Please, continue … as you do, dear Rinpoche.
Thanks to your living example
a certain face is tatooed on our heart
and a certain voice carved our inner hearing
gratitude
Not feeling rejected is the proof … ?
well
its there, but its not there.
Kindly aware and thankfull
for your guidance
Dharmanet is holding us
Oh dear
what to say
when all
is said
just holding
third birds
view
Venerating
the ocean
of Buddhadharma
celebrating
embodyments birthday
please
stay with us
untill
liberation
is
fullfilled
Writing in this empty space …
receiving echos
dancing with
illusion
deludingly calm down
seeing
clouds dissolving
bright blue sky
within rainbow
is able to appear
Embracing the swiftness
<3
having had this visit
in dream
waking up wondering
how blissfull body
struggle with
this fearfull mind
still shying away
from this overwhelming
isness
Namo
Namo
Namo
Namo
Looking to the moon
you pointed to
bravly ignoring
your finger
may all beings
see brightly clear
the beauty of
its light
reminding
sister sun
is shining him visible
Another prayerflag is put up
may all beings be inspired
may they be reminded
to the union
of wisdom & compassion
namo buddhaya
the urge to merge
created by
deludedness
is joining
desire-realms
existence
may all be liberated
Ah, Manjushri
dreamed
sitting in the desert
yearning for moisture
awaken in the ocean
mids of it
dreamlike ocean
may your blessing
free us from the extreme
and help to renounce
ignorance
may we be reminded
to the view
using our sword
cutting through
delusion
…. no worldly prince is doing justice
and as a wise princess would wish
may we meet in the pure land …
* *
*** ***
***** ***** Poems
runs
out
* *
* *
***
to assume any algorithm
could take over
human imagination
is a simple misconception
never the less
thank you
using means skillfully
No they don’t. A certain level of enlightenment and understanding is required to see them.
Please to meet you ***
Pleased of course at the moment … distraction included 😉
but nothing against meeting
… getting a clue of what could be meant by not wasting time, generally, relativly spoken.
Hand on my head is required !
Listen across
the wall
of conclusion
to hear
the sound
of your
bell
Wind is blowing
through my empty house
wispering
the secret name
staying untouched
in its
radiance
Rinpoche … ??
Yes, dear Rinpoche
sons and daughters
will do.
May all be liberated
Texto maravilhoso! É incrível a total semelhança da história do terang da foto com a lenda brasileira do Saci Pererê, que é um menino de uma perna só que usa gorro vermelho, um espírito da floresta que prega peça nas pessoas. Para mim que a lenda brasileira é mais antiga do que a chegada do budismo no Brasil. A cultura é realmente um fenômeno lindo, fantástico e surpreendente!
May our prayers and our tears and our wishes come true for peace and for enlightenment to blossom in the heart and to work its magical way through the blessing of the Buddhas of the three times. May we meet with our teachers and humbly serve them with diligence and faith. May we work for the welfare of all living beings.