{"id":1942,"date":"2016-04-24T10:25:38","date_gmt":"2016-04-24T10:25:38","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/mugwortborn.wpengine.com\/project\/episode-two-to-cry-or-not-to-cry\/"},"modified":"2020-08-11T20:12:08","modified_gmt":"2020-08-11T20:12:08","slug":"episode-two-to-cry-or-not-to-cry","status":"publish","type":"project","link":"https:\/\/mugwortborn.com\/pt-br\/project\/episode-two-to-cry-or-not-to-cry\/","title":{"rendered":"EPIS\u00d3DIO DOIS: Chorar ou N\u00e3o Chorar"},"content":{"rendered":"

[et_pb_section fb_built=”1″ admin_label=”section” _builder_version=”3.22″][et_pb_row admin_label=”row” _builder_version=”3.25″ background_size=”initial” background_position=”top_left” background_repeat=”repeat”][et_pb_column type=”4_4″ _builder_version=”3.25″ custom_padding=”|||” custom_padding__hover=”|||”][et_pb_post_title meta=”off” _builder_version=”4.4.8″][\/et_pb_post_title][et_pb_text admin_label=”Text” _builder_version=”4.4.8″ background_size=”initial” background_position=”top_left” background_repeat=”repeat” hover_enabled=”0″]<\/p>\n

Tendo sobrevivido a mais de meio s\u00e9culo desta alucina\u00e7\u00e3o \u00e0 qual chamo minha vida \u2013 tendo transitado por milhares de quil\u00f4metros das estradas mais trai\u00e7oeiras de lugares como a \u00cdndia e o But\u00e3o, voado por milhares de quil\u00f4metros ao redor do mundo em aeronaves prec\u00e1rias, tendo comido sabe-se l\u00e1 o qu\u00ea em barraquinhas de Bangkok e bebido toxinas camufladas de ch\u00e1 de primeira no Hotel Peninsula \u2013 chego \u00e0 conclus\u00e3o que a capacidade de chorar \u00e9 um dom.<\/p>\n

A imagem de l\u00e1grimas, especialmente de crian\u00e7as e particularmente de meninas, \u00e9 algo que marca minha consci\u00eancia h\u00e1 anos. Certa vez Cl\u00e1udia estava me levando de carro at\u00e9 o aeroporto de Sydney e sua filha Sachiko, na \u00e9poca um beb\u00ea de poucos meses, chorava querendo aten\u00e7\u00e3o no banco de tr\u00e1s. No entanto, n\u00e3o havia nada que pud\u00e9ssemos fazer, est\u00e1vamos numa autoestrada veloz e movimentada. Essa cena \u00e0s vezes ainda me assombra a mem\u00f3ria. Espero que o epis\u00f3dio n\u00e3o tenha incutido nela o medo do abandono.<\/p>\n

No ambiente em que fui criado, as crian\u00e7as que n\u00e3o choravam eram elogiadas pelos adultos. Assim, acabei criando orgulho por prender o choro e n\u00e3o ser um fracote. N\u00e3o derramei uma l\u00e1grima sequer quando fui tomado de meus av\u00f3s para ser mandado ao internato. Mesmo no dia marcante, n\u00e3o muito ap\u00f3s esse, em que fui alienado para sempre da escola e de casa, controlei as l\u00e1grimas, embora n\u00e3o sem esfor\u00e7o. Nesse dia, tive de me despedir de meus av\u00f3s maternos, que me haviam criado, e partir para Siquim, um lugar mais distante do que eu era capaz de conceber. N\u00e3o houvera qualquer men\u00e7\u00e3o a um retorno. Siquim n\u00e3o \u00e9 geograficamente t\u00e3o distante do But\u00e3o oriental, por\u00e9m dist\u00e2ncia, tamanho e tempo s\u00e3o relativos e mut\u00e1veis, dependendo da perspectiva vari\u00e1vel de cada um. Do ponto de vista de uma crian\u00e7a de cinco anos, n\u00e3o poderia ser mais distante.<\/p>\n

Eu tinha ouvido pessoas mencionarem lugares como Siquim e Nepal, mas jamais me ocorrera que teria a oportunidade de conhec\u00ea-los pessoalmente. De vez em nunca um avi\u00e3o nos sobrevoava e todos corriam pra ir olhar e l\u00e1 permaneciam muito ap\u00f3s o avi\u00e3o ter passado, olhando o rastro branco que cruzava o c\u00e9u. E durante dias especul\u00e1vamos sobre como deveria ser l\u00e1 em cima. Eu imaginava que jamais teria tal oportunidade, porque voar de avi\u00e3o era coisa de rico e de gente importante. Um dia um parente que nos visitava disse ter tomado um avi\u00e3o uma vez. Ele fez seu relato durante um jantar na cozinha, onde com\u00edamos todos ao redor do braseiro, e eu n\u00e3o fui o \u00fanico a ter ouvido hipnotizado \u2013 mesmo os adultos presentes ouviram com toda a aten\u00e7\u00e3o. Noite ap\u00f3s noite este parente relatara sua experi\u00eancia celeste.<\/p>\n

De toda a forma: chegado o dia de eu finalmente ir para a long\u00ednqua regi\u00e3o chamada Siquim \u2013 por terra, diga-se de passagem \u2013 minha av\u00f3 n\u00e3o teve como conter as l\u00e1grimas. Lembro-me de meu av\u00f4 a repreender porque, segundo ele, tal demonstra\u00e7\u00e3o de afetividade era de mau agouro. Ter visto um adulto chorar, particularmente algu\u00e9m que eu respeitava tanto, deve ter me marcado muito, porque esta figura dentre as mais marcantes das poucas mem\u00f3rias que tenho de minha av\u00f3.<\/p>\n

Mais tarde eu concluiria que as pessoas \u2013 inclusive aquelas que mais respeito neste mundo \u2013 choram por muitas raz\u00f5es, n\u00e3o somente tristeza ou medo.<\/p>\n

\"dudjom\"Tenho uma vaga e fragmentada mem\u00f3ria de uns alto-falantes na primeira vez em que estive na presen\u00e7a de Kyabje Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche. Eu tinha menos de um ano de idade e tinha sido levado para Darjeeling, onde meu av\u00f4 paterno Kyabje Dudjom Rinpoche estava concedendo a transmiss\u00e3o do Kangyur[1]<\/sup><\/a>. Para tal, ele precisou ler em voz alta cerca de 70.000 p\u00e1ginas de texto, o que leva muitos meses. \u00c9 prov\u00e1vel que a maior conquista da civiliza\u00e7\u00e3o tibetana tenha sido a tradu\u00e7\u00e3o, preserva\u00e7\u00e3o, transmiss\u00e3o cont\u00ednua e ensinamento do Kangyur. Mais tarde vim a saber que foi por insist\u00eancia de meu av\u00f4 que recebi tal transmiss\u00e3o, embora eu n\u00e3o passasse de um beb\u00ea. E n\u00e3o foram apenas algumas partes, ele instruiu minha m\u00e3e a n\u00e3o permitir que eu dormisse por um momento sequer. Caso eu cochilasse ou fizesse birra, meu av\u00f4 interrompia a transmiss\u00e3o e me dava um doce, com a inten\u00e7\u00e3o de que eu n\u00e3o perdesse nem uma \u00fanica palavra. Anos mais tarde, esse fato foi usado para me chantagear a conceder essa mesma transmiss\u00e3o do Kangyur. E assim o fiz, penosamente, em Chauntra, no Dzongsar Shedra \u2013 o que afetou minha vis\u00e3o permanentemente.<\/p>\n

Naquela oportunidade, Kyabje Dilgo Khyentse veio receber parcialmente a transmiss\u00e3o de Kyabje Dudjom Rinpoche e assim tive meu primeiro encontro com ele. Tenho uma clara mem\u00f3ria de me sentir compelido pela presen\u00e7a de um homem sentado em um trono, algu\u00e9m que n\u00e3o era o meu av\u00f4. Insisti em abordar Rinpoche. Isso me foi mais tarde confirmado por minha tia, que me contou que mesmo eu sendo t\u00e3o pequeno tinha ficado muito concentrado em Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche.\u00a0\"khandro\"<\/p>\n

A segunda oportunidade em que encontrei Kyabje Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche \u00e9 muito mais clara pra mim. Eu tinha cinco anos, havia rec\u00e9m deixado meus av\u00f3s e estava a caminho do Khyentse Labrang no Pal\u00e1cio de Gangtok, tamb\u00e9m conhecido como Tsuklhakang ou Capela do Pal\u00e1cio, em Siquim, onde eu seria entronizado como o tulku de Dzongsar Khyentse Ch\u00f6kyi Lodr\u00f6 e viria a residir por muitos anos. O espa\u00e7o para o labrang havia sido generosamente oferecido a Khyentse Ch\u00f6kyi Lodr\u00f6 pelo Rei de Siquim, Tashi Namgyal, e seu filho, o ent\u00e3o pr\u00edncipe herdeiro Palden Thondup Namgyel, em fins dos anos 50. Khandro Tshering Ch\u00f6dr\u00f6n residira no Tsuklakhang desde ent\u00e3o.<\/p>\n

Nosso grupo viajou do But\u00e3o num jipe Mahindra caindo aos peda\u00e7os. Eu me sentia como um homem de verdade por n\u00e3o ter chorado ao me despedir da minha vida como tinha sido at\u00e9 ent\u00e3o. Eu estava focado no que estava por vir. Quando chegamos a uma encruzilhada em Singtam, l\u00e1 estava um grande agrupamento de pessoas para me receber. Meus atendentes e o motorista ficaram inquietos e nervosos, subindo as janelas do carro. Algu\u00e9m disse: “Kyabje Dilgo Khyentse veio receb\u00ea-lo.” Conforme o jipe diminu\u00eda de velocidade em meio a uma multid\u00e3o de pessoas segurando katas, avistei Rinpoche de p\u00e9 por entre o espiralar das nuvens de oferendas de fuma\u00e7a. Ele era alt\u00edssimo e razoavelmente magro, ainda n\u00e3o tinha o porte que viria a ter no futuro, e estava vestido com seus melhores mantos. Muito depois me disseram que ele jamais tinha sido visto naqueles trajes e havia quem suspeitasse que ele os tivesse pedido emprestados especialmente para a ocasi\u00e3o, j\u00e1 que era paup\u00e9rrimo \u00e0quela altura.<\/p>\n

\"greeting\"Eu n\u00e3o passava de uma crian\u00e7a, mas Rinpoche me tratou com todo o respeito. Foram oferecidos arroz cerimonial com a\u00e7afr\u00e3o e ch\u00e1 de manteiga e logo j\u00e1 era hora de seguir para Gangtok. Eu iria passar do nosso jipe empoeirado para um belo sed\u00e3 europeu branco. Foi a primeira vez que entrei num carro fabricado na Europa. Kyabje Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche entrou primeiro e eu fui colocado em seu colo.<\/p>\n

Foi ent\u00e3o que come\u00e7ou. Durante as quase duas horas de viagem, Khyentse Rinpoche chorou qual uma crian\u00e7a, sem parar; aquele homem gigante t\u00e3o respeitado por todos, completamente derretido em l\u00e1grimas. Anos depois, ouvi dizer que ele dissera a algumas pessoas que desde o momento em que me vira em Singtam at\u00e9 que cheg\u00e1ssemos ao pal\u00e1cio ele sentira a presen\u00e7a de Khyentse Ch\u00f6kyi Lodr\u00f6 plenamente, com total clareza, como se nada houvesse mudado; ele n\u00e3o teve como se conter.<\/p>\n

N\u00e3o muito depois, Kyabje Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche come\u00e7ou a ensinar e a conceder inicia\u00e7\u00f5es. Em Tashiding, Siquim ocidental, ele deu um ensinamento muito importante, o tesouro do ciclo Lama Gongdu. E mais uma vez assisti admirado conforme ele subitamente irrompeu em l\u00e1grimas durante o ensinamento. Ele convocou seu atendente chamado Shedrup, o qual tamb\u00e9m chorava copiosamente, e este imediatamente trouxe uma echarpe de seda comprid\u00edssima, que Kyabje Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche colocou ao redor do meu pesco\u00e7o.<\/p>\n

Normalmente Rinpoche era como uma montanha, nada o comovia, nada o alvoro\u00e7ava. Ele era a \u00faltima pessoa que algu\u00e9m esperaria ver chorando. Era um homem de dois metros e dez de altura, feito do sangue e dos ossos de alguns dos mais c\u00e9lebres guerreiros de Kham, no Tibete oriental, seus av\u00f3s tendo sido ministros do Rei de Derge. Ele herdara deles a bravura e a eleg\u00e2ncia e era verdadeiramente majestoso; de fato, listar suas incr\u00edveis qualidades seria infind\u00e1vel. Lembro-me, no entanto, de algumas outras ocasi\u00f5es em que Rinpoche chorou, por vezes inclusive irrompendo em l\u00e1grimas e gemendo qual uma crian\u00e7a, realmente aos prantos. Da mesma forma, ele tinha a capacidade de exibir a mais grandiosa alegria, al\u00e9m de qualquer coisa que eu j\u00e1 tivesse visto.<\/p>\n

Quando eu era um pouco mais velho, Rinpoche convidou alguns de n\u00f3s, incluindo Rabjam Rinpoche, Tulku Pema Wangyal e v\u00e1rios outros, para uma visita ao Tibete. Fomos para o mosteiro Gonchen, tamb\u00e9m conhecido como Mosteiro de Derge, um templo Sakyapa no Tibete, fundado por Thangtong Gyalpo. Era a segunda vez que Kyabje Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche visitava o Tibete desde a destrui\u00e7\u00e3o dos mosteiros pela Guarda Vermelha durante a Revolu\u00e7\u00e3o Cultural. A China havia rec\u00e9m come\u00e7ado a mudar sua pol\u00edtica no que tangia \u00e0 f\u00e9 e \u00e0 pr\u00e1tica religiosa; muitos dos mosteiros se encontravam num estado de completa ru\u00edna. Assim que chegamos, muitos tibetanos vieram ter conosco.<\/p>\n

Certo dia, apareceu um rapaz de apar\u00eancia totalmente comum que, de dentro de uma bolsa r\u00fastica, tirou uma pequena estatueta de Manjushri de cerca de oito cent\u00edmetros e a ofereceu para Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche. Parecia ser uma estatueta como qualquer outra, mas Rinpoche imediatamente a reconheceu como sendo um objeto de pr\u00e1tica que havia pertencido a Mipham Rinpoche. Ele chorou copiosa e longamente pelo que pareceu uma eternidade, enquanto permanec\u00edamos sentados em sua presen\u00e7a, sem palavras. Era como se algu\u00e9m tivesse lhe dado de presente um Manjushri de verdade, em pessoa. E n\u00e3o tenho d\u00favida de que assim ele o percebera.<\/p>\n

Rinpoche colocava a estatueta na mesa e ficava olhando para ela, ent\u00e3o a segurava nas m\u00e3os, colocava de novo na mesa, e ficava assim sem parar, irrompendo em l\u00e1grimas por v\u00e1rias vezes. Ele pousava a estatueta sobre a cabe\u00e7a, sobre o cora\u00e7\u00e3o, sua alegria era incont\u00edvel. Ele convocou Tulku Pema Wangyal Rinpoche para que recompensasse o rapaz e creio que Rinpoche ofereceu uma quantia bastante significativa, ainda que o rapaz n\u00e3o tivesse pedido nada.<\/p>\n

Sendo seguidores de Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche, naturalmente prest\u00e1vamos homenagens a Mipham Rinpoche e a Manjushri; nossa devo\u00e7\u00e3o, no entanto, era bastante casual. T\u00ednhamos uma atitude reverente porque era de praxe. Nunca t\u00ednhamos efetivamente presenciado uma alegria t\u00e3o profunda quanto aquela que Rinpoche demonstrava, muito menos t\u00ednhamos experimentado algo daquele tipo pessoalmente. Eu estava estupefato; n\u00e3o \u00e9 todo o dia que se v\u00ea algo assim. Agora concluo que ao presenciar aquele verdadeiro guerreiro, aquele gigante, maior do que a exist\u00eancia em si, chorar de verdade daquela forma, eu havia testemunhado a pr\u00f3pria corporifica\u00e7\u00e3o da coragem..<\/p>\n

Talvez um tanto desnorteado e sem saber como agir, ajoelhei-me e jurei oferecer 100.000 lamparinas de manteiga \u00e0quela estatueta de Manjushri. Rinpoche imediatamente disse: \u201cVoc\u00ea ter\u00e1 grande erudi\u00e7\u00e3o, gra\u00e7as \u00e0s b\u00ean\u00e7\u00e3os de Manjushri\u201d.<\/p>\n

Muitos anos se passaram. Levado pela pregui\u00e7a e pelas distra\u00e7\u00f5es, eu n\u00e3o fiz as tais oferendas de lamparinas enquanto Rinpoche ainda era vivo. Rinpoche faleceu em 1991. Durante a cerim\u00f4nia de entroniza\u00e7\u00e3o do atual Yangsi Rinpoche, Rabjam Rinpoche me pediu que concedesse aos jovens tulkus transmiss\u00f5es orais dos escritos de Kyabje Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche e, claro, l\u00e1 estava; conforme eu lia sua sadhana de louvor e oferendas a Manjushri, no colof\u00e3o, me vi lendo em voz alta a passagem que dizia “Quando o Yangsi Thubthen Ch\u00f6kyi Gyatso (que \u00e9 como ele se referia a mim) se ofereceu para fazer 100.000 oferendas de lamparinas de manteiga a Manjushri, me ocorreu que isto seria de grande benef\u00edcio.” Eu estava lendo o lung usando um alto-falante e, embora estivesse deveras condicionado a jamais chorar, a emo\u00e7\u00e3o foi tamanha que meus olhos se encheram de l\u00e1grimas. Tive de fingir que precisava assoar o nariz e limpar a garganta. Minha primeira rea\u00e7\u00e3o foi a de me esconder.<\/p>\n

Assim que terminei a transmiss\u00e3o, imediatamente solicitei do Tibete toda a manteiga necess\u00e1ria para fazer as 100.000 oferendas. Desde ent\u00e3o, sempre que tenho a oportunidade, fa\u00e7o 100.000 oferendas de mandala e 100.000 oferendas de luz a essa importante estatueta de Manjushri que permanece no Jnanasattva de Kyabje Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche, no Mosteiro de Shechen, no Nepal.<\/p>\n

Dilgo Khyentse Yangsi Rinpoche j\u00e1 foi entronizado h\u00e1 muitos anos. Aspiro v\u00ea-lo, Rinpoche, da mesma forma em que ele me viu. \u00c9 de fato inexplic\u00e1vel que algu\u00e9m fique t\u00e3o exultante por causa de duas coisas t\u00e3o pequenas, um garotinho e uma estatueta.<\/p>\n

\"for<\/p>\n

[1]<\/sup><\/a> a cole\u00e7\u00e3o completa das palavras do Buda<\/p>\n

[\/et_pb_text][et_pb_divider _builder_version=”4.4.8″ custom_margin=”||0px||false|false” custom_padding=”0px||||false|false”][\/et_pb_divider][et_pb_post_nav _builder_version=”4.4.8″ min_height=”55px” custom_margin=”|-100px||-100px|false|true” custom_padding=”|0px||||” border_color_all=”rgba(0,0,0,0)”][\/et_pb_post_nav][et_pb_comments _builder_version=”4.4.8″][\/et_pb_comments][\/et_pb_column][\/et_pb_row][\/et_pb_section]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Tendo sobrevivido a mais de meio s\u00e9culo desta alucina\u00e7\u00e3o \u00e0 qual chamo minha vida \u2013 tendo transitado por milhares de quil\u00f4metros das estradas mais trai\u00e7oeiras de lugares como a \u00cdndia e o But\u00e3o, voado por milhares de quil\u00f4metros ao redor do mundo em aeronaves prec\u00e1rias, tendo comido sabe-se l\u00e1 o qu\u00ea em barraquinhas de Bangkok […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":1944,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"_et_pb_use_builder":"on","_et_pb_old_content":"After barely surviving more than half a century of this hallucination of life\u2014having driven thousands of miles on some of the most treacherous roads in places like India and Bhutan, having flown hundreds of thousands of miles around the world in flimsy airplanes, having eaten who knows what kind of food from vendors in Bangkok or toxins camouflaged as high tea at the Peninsula hotel\u2014I have come to realize that being able to cry is a gift.\r\n\r\nThe sight of tears, especially those of children, and especially of girls, remains in my consciousness for years. Once Claudia was driving me to Sydney airport and her daughter Sachiko, barely a few months old, was crying for attention in the back seat. But we couldn't do anything because we were on the busy highway. Sometimes that scene still comes back to haunt me. I hope a fear of abandonment was not engrained in her that day.\r\n\r\nIn the environment I was raised, children who didn't cry were praised by adults. So I became proud of keeping it in and not being a sissy. I didn't shed a tear when I was taken away from my grandparents to boarding school. Even on the momentous day not long afterwards, when I was taken away from school and home forever, I controlled my tears, although it took some effort. On that day, I had to say goodbye to my maternal grandparents who had raised me and leave for Sikkim, which was farther away than I could imagine. There was no mention of ever returning. Sikkim is not geographically that far away from eastern Bhutan, but distance, height, and time are all relative and changeable depending on one's changing perspective. From the point of view of a child of five, it could not have been farther.\r\n\r\nI had heard people talk about places like Sikkim and Nepal but it never occurred to me that I would have an opportunity to go myself. Once in a blue moon an airplane would fly overhead and everyone would scramble outside to stare. They would stay a long time after the plane had passed, watching the white trails cross the sky. And for days we would talk about what it must be like up there. I assumed I would never have the opportunity to fly because it was for important, rich people. Once a family member came and claimed he'd taken a flight. He told his tale at dinner time in the kitchen where we all ate around the hearth, and it wasn't just me who was mesmerized, even the adults listened intently. Night after night this relative recounted his experience in the sky.\r\n\r\nAnyway, when the day came that I was going to this distant land called Sikkim, by road, mind you, my grandmother could not control her tears. I remember my grandfather scolding her because, he said, her display of emotion was inauspicious. To see an adult crying, especially when it was someone I respected very much, must have made a strong impression on me because it is the strongest of the few memories I have of my grandmother.\r\n\r\nLater I realized there are so many reasons people cry, including the people I respect most in this world, not just when they are sad or afraid.\r\n\r\nI have a hazy, fragmented memory of loudspeakers from the first time I met Kyabje Dilgo \"dudjom\"Khyentse Rinpoche. I was less than one year old and I had been taken to Darjeeling, where my paternal grandfather Kyabje Dudjom Rinpoche was giving the transmission of the Kangyur[1]<\/sup><\/a>. To give the transmission he had to read about 70,000 pages of text aloud, which takes many months. Probably the greatest thing the Tibetan civilization ever achieved was to translate, preserve, continuously transmit, and teach the Kangyur. I later learned that it was my grandfather who insisted I receive this transmission even though I was just a baby. And not just some parts of it; he told my mother not to let me sleep even for a moment. If I dozed off or got fussy, he would stop the transmission to give me sweets so that I wouldn\u2019t miss a single word. Years later people used this fact to manipulate me into giving the Kangyur transmission myself. And I did so, painfully, in Chauntra at Dzongsar Shedra, which permanently damaged my eyesight.\r\n\r\nIt was there that Kyabje Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche came to receive part of the transmission from Kyabje Dudjom Rinpoche and I had my first encounter with him. I have a distinct memory of being drawn to a man seated on a throne, clearly not my grandfather. I insisted on approaching Rinpoche. This was later confirmed by my auntie, who told me that even though I was so young I was very focused on Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche.\r\n\r\nThe second time I met Kyabje Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche is much more clear in my mind. I was \"khandro\"five years old, just after I had left my grandparents, and on my way to the Khyentse Labrang at Gangtok Palace\u2014also known as Tsuklakhang or the Palace Chapel\u2014in Sikkim, where I was about to be enthroned as a tulku of Dzongsar Khyentse Ch\u00f6kyi Lodr\u00f6 and where I would reside for many years to come. The space for the labrang had been generously offered to Khyentse Ch\u00f6kyi Lodro by the King of Sikkim, Tashi Namgyal and his son the then crown prince Palden Thondup Namgyel, in the late 1950s. Khandro Tshering Ch\u00f6dr\u00f6n had been residing at the Tsuklakhang since then.\r\n\r\nOur group travelled from Bhutan in a dilapidated Mahindra jeep. I was feeling like a real man because I hadn\u2019t cried when saying goodbye to my life as I had known it. I was looking forward. When we reached a crossroads at Singtam, there was a large gathering of people there to receive me. My attendants and driver became flustered and nervous, rolling up the windows. Someone said, \u201cKyabje Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche is here to receive you.\u201d As the jeep slowed down amid crowds of people holding katas, I saw Rinpoche standing there in a cloud of swirling smoke offerings. He was extremely tall and somewhat slim, not as large as he would become one day, and he was dressed up in fine robes. I was told much later that no one had ever seen him in such a robe and some even suspected that he borrowed clothing for the reception because he was very poor at that time.\r\n\r\n\"greeting\"I was just a kid but Rinpoche treated me with complete respect. Ceremonial saffron rice and butter tea were offered, and then it was time to continue on to Gangtok. I was to shift from our dusty jeep into this beautiful white European sedan. This was the first time I\u2019d been in a European made car. Kyabje Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche got in first and I was placed on his lap.\r\n\r\nThat\u2019s when it started. It was almost a two hour drive and Khyentse Rinpoche wept like a child the entire way, this giant man who was so respected by everyone, completely dissolved in tears. Years later, I heard that he told people that from the moment of seeing me in Singtam until he reached the palace, he felt the presence of Khyentse Ch\u00f6kyi Lodr\u00f6 utterly, clearly, as if nothing had changed, and he couldn't help himself.\r\n\r\nNot long after that, Kyabje Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche began to teach and give initiations. In Tashiding, western Sikkim, he gave a very important treasure teaching of the Lama Gongdu cycle. Again, I watched in awe as he suddenly burst into tears in the middle of the teaching. He called for his attendant\u2014there was one named Shedrup\u2014who was also in tears. He immediately brought a very long scarf, which Kyabje Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche put around my neck.\r\n\r\nUsually, Rinpoche was like a mountain, nothing moved him, nothing made him flustered. He was the last person you'd expect to cry. This is a man, six feet, eleven inches tall, with the blood and bones of some of the most celebrated warriors of Kham, Eastern Tibet, his grandfathers were ministers of the King of Derge. He inherited their bravery and elegance and was just so majestic, we can never really finish talking about his amazing qualities. But I can remember a few other occasions of Rinpoche crying, sometimes even bursting out into tears and wailing like a child, really boo hoo-ing. He was also capable of exhibiting great joy, beyond anything I had seen.\r\n\r\nWhen I was a bit older, Rinpoche invited a group of us to Tibet, including Rabjam Rinpoche, Tulku Pema Wangyal, and many others. We went to Gonchen monastery, also known as Derge Monastery, a Sakyapa temple founded by Thangtong Gyalpo in Tibet. It was Kyabje Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche\u2019s second visit to Tibet since the Red Guard's destruction of the monasteries during the Cultural Revolution. China was just beginning to change its policies about faith and practice, but many of these monasteries were in a state of complete ruin. After we arrived, many, many Tibetans came to see us.\r\n\r\nOne day, a very ordinary looking young man came and from his rough looking bag, he offered a small three-inch statue of Manjushri to Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche. It looked like an ordinary statue to me but Rinpoche immediately recognized it as the practice object belonging to Mipham Rinpoche. He wept for a long time\u2014it felt like ages\u2014while we all sat speechless. He behaved as if someone had given him a real live Manjushri. And I have no doubt that that is how he must have perceived it.\r\n\r\nRinpoche kept placing the statue on the table and gazing at it, then picking it up again and again. And then he would burst out in tears again. He would put it on his head and on his heart, he was just so overjoyed. He summoned Tulku Pema Wangyal Rinpoche to reward this young man and I think Rinpoche gave him quite a significant amount of money even though he wasn\u2019t asking for it.\r\n\r\nAs followers of Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche, we of course paid homage to Mipham Rinpoche and Manjushri, but our devotion was very casual. Our attitude was to venerate because we were supposed<\/em> to venerate. We had never really witnessed this deep joy that Rinpoche was displaying, let alone experienced it for ourselves. I was astonished, it\u2019s not often that you see such a thing. I now realize by witnessing a real warrior, a larger than life giant, actually having tears, I had witnessed the embodiment of courage.\r\n\r\nMaybe a little bewildered and not knowing what to do, I knelt down and told him that I pledged to offer 100,000 butter lamps to this Manjushri statue. Rinpoche immediately said, \u201cYou will be very learned by the blessing of Manjushri.\u201d\r\n\r\nMany years passed. Carried away by laziness and distractions, I never actually made the lamp offerings while he was still living. Rinpoche passed away in 1991. During the enthronement of the present Yangsi Rinpoche, Rabjam Rinpoche asked me to give transmissions to the young tulkus from the writings of Kyabje Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche and, sure enough, as I was reading his sadhana in praise and offering to Manjushri, in the colophon I found myself reading aloud from a passage that said, \u201cWhen Yangsi Thubthen Ch\u00f6kyi Gyatso (this is how he referred to me) offered 100,000 butter lamps to Manjushri, I thought this would be of great benefit.\u201d I was reading the lung through a loudspeaker and though I was so conditioned to not cry, my feelings were so strong that tears came to my eyes. I had to pretend that I had to blow my nose and cough. My immediate reaction was to hide.\r\n\r\nAs soon as I was done with the transmission, I immediately ordered enough butter from Tibet to make 100,000 offerings. Thereafter, whenever I have a chance I make 100,000 mandala offerings and 100,000 light offerings to this great Manjushri statue that still is kept in the Jnanasattva of Kyabje Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche\u2019s stupa at Shechen Monastery in Nepal.\r\n\r\nDilgo Khyentse Yangsi Rinpoche has been enthroned for many years. I aspire to see him, Rinpoche, in the way that Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche saw me. It\u2019s unfathomable to have someone get so overjoyed by such small things, a boy and a statue.\r\n\r\n\"for\r\n\r\n[1]<\/sup><\/a> the complete collection of the words of the Buddha","_et_gb_content_width":"","footnotes":""},"project_category":[46],"project_tag":[],"class_list":["post-1942","project","type-project","status-publish","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","project_category-episodes-pt-br"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/mugwortborn.com\/pt-br\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/project\/1942","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/mugwortborn.com\/pt-br\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/project"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/mugwortborn.com\/pt-br\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/project"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mugwortborn.com\/pt-br\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mugwortborn.com\/pt-br\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1942"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/mugwortborn.com\/pt-br\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/project\/1942\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mugwortborn.com\/pt-br\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/1944"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/mugwortborn.com\/pt-br\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1942"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"project_category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mugwortborn.com\/pt-br\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/project_category?post=1942"},{"taxonomy":"project_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mugwortborn.com\/pt-br\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/project_tag?post=1942"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}