{"id":2002,"date":"2016-06-09T07:48:37","date_gmt":"2016-06-09T07:48:37","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/mugwortborn.wpengine.com\/project\/episode-four-hidden-lands\/"},"modified":"2026-08-28T22:49:50","modified_gmt":"2026-08-28T22:49:50","slug":"episode-four-hidden-lands","status":"publish","type":"project","link":"https:\/\/mugwortborn.com\/pt-br\/project\/episode-four-hidden-lands\/","title":{"rendered":"EPIS\u00d3DIO QUATRO \u2013 Terras Ocultas"},"content":{"rendered":"

Uma das minhas mem\u00f3rias mais vivas \u00e9 a cozinha enfuma\u00e7ada da minha fam\u00edlia, com seu fog\u00e3o de tijolos de barro e uma plataforma que pendia <\/span>dos caibros, <\/span>na qual <\/span>a<\/span> lenha<\/span> era estocada<\/span>. Nessa cozinha eram picados os vegetais, o ch\u00e1 era preparado, enquanto nossas narinas iam ficando pretas de fuligem conforme aliment\u00e1vamos o fogo com n\u00f3s <\/span>e galhos de pinho, que queimam lentamente. As lamparinas tamb\u00e9m eram feitas de n\u00f3 de pinho.<\/span> No entanto o mais importante, evidentemente, \u00e9 que aqui era onde a fam\u00edlia se reunia para as refei\u00e7\u00f5es. Ap\u00f3s o jantar, os adultos contavam hist\u00f3rias folcl\u00f3ricas e os <\/span>gomchen<\/i><\/span> nos assustavam com suas <\/span>his<\/span>t\u00f3rias de vultos e assombra\u00e7\u00f5es. A mesma hist\u00f3ria podia estar sendo contada pela cent\u00e9sima vez sem que nem o contador nem os ouvintes se cansassem. Ocasionalmente, em dias especiais, se acendia o lampi\u00e3o a querosene, cujo funcionamento <\/span> <\/span>fascinava a n\u00f3s, as crian\u00e7as.<\/span><\/p>\n

\"King

Rei Ugyen Wangchuk, 1905<\/em><\/p><\/div>

\"Lhasa,

Regente Gyeltshap Reting Rinpoche\u00a0<\/em><\/p><\/div><\/p>\n

Tenho n\u00edtidas mem\u00f3rias de compartilhar as refei\u00e7\u00f5es com meus av\u00f3s maternos, Lama Sonam Zangpo e Dendup Palmo. Lama Sonam Zangpo era o melhor contador de <\/span>his<\/span>t\u00f3rias q<\/span>ue havia. Ele era conhecido por sua mem\u00f3ria fotogr\u00e1fica e se lembrava de todas as <\/span>hist\u00f3rias <\/span>e lendas. Suas descri\u00e7\u00f5es da barba do primeiro rei do But\u00e3o, Sir <\/span>Ugyen Wangchuck, ou de como\u00a0<\/span>Gyaltsab Reting Rinpoche[1]\u00a0<\/a>era bonito e marcante quando adolescente, ao ser levado pelo XIII Dalai Lama para seu mosteiro no Pal\u00e1cio Jokhang, faziam com que as <\/span>hist\u00f3rias <\/span>tomassem vida.<\/span> <\/span><\/p>\n

Meu av\u00f4 era uma arca de tesouro de contos de fadas.\u00a0<\/span>Tento desesperadamente at\u00e9 hoje me lembrar de uma <\/span>hist\u00f3ria <\/span>espec\u00edfica que ele contava, sobre um c\u00e3o que era uma emana\u00e7\u00e3o de Tara Verde e que resgatava um garotinho. Lembro nitidamente que o c\u00e3o conduzira o menino ao carregar uma linda flor na boca, mas tenho a clara sensa\u00e7\u00e3o de que n\u00e3o me lembrarei do resto da hist\u00f3ria talvez at\u00e9 o momento de exalar meu derradeiro suspiro.<\/span><\/p>\n

Quase diariamente meu av\u00f4 resmungava sobre uma terra oculta onde outrora vivera e da qual sentia saudades. Ele tinha tamanha nostalgia por este lugar misterioso: se estiv\u00e9ssemos comendo alguma hortali\u00e7a, nunca era t\u00e3o verde quanto eram as dessa terra oculta. Nenhum creme de leite jamais era t\u00e3o delicioso quanto os que l\u00e1 havia. A artem\u00edsia que nascia onde quer que fosse nunca era t\u00e3o fragrante quanto as de l\u00e1. E ele tinha uma saudade particular do l\u00edquen que crescia nas \u00e1rvores.<\/span><\/p>\n

Minha \u00fanica mem\u00f3ria <\/span>desta<\/span> terra oculta \u00e9 de uma fort\u00edssima luz do sol, uma varanda e talvez uma pequena horta.<\/span><\/p>\n

Existem incont\u00e1veis, inimagin\u00e1veis m\u00e9todos de se desvelar a sabedoria no budismo t\u00e2ntrico \u2013 desaparecer completamente, por exemplo. Um dos meus pr\u00f3prios tutores certo dia desapareceu e ningu\u00e9m nunca mais o viu. Existe um m\u00e9todo em que se convincentemente finge ter enlouquecido e se abandona todas as normas sociais. Outro dos meus tutores seguiu esse caminho. Existe um m\u00e9todo de se delicadamente colher as sementes do zimbro sem afetar os galhos e se abster completamente de qualquer alimento ou bebida exceto pela ess\u00eancia dessas sementes; atrav\u00e9s do jejum se abre m\u00e3o dos h\u00e1bitos de mastigar, engolir e digerir e, assim fazendo, a sabedoria e a energia se desvelam e o prana e os nadis se equilibram. Meu av\u00f4 Lama Sonam Zangpo era famoso por esta pr\u00e1tica de <\/span>chulan<\/i><\/span>; ele tinha as m\u00e3os mais firmes que j\u00e1 vi. Lembro-me dele com oitenta e tantos anos se exibindo ao pintar uma s\u00edlaba<\/span> <\/span>raiz num gr\u00e3o de arroz usando um pincel feito de dois p\u00ealos.<\/span><\/p>\n

No entanto, era pela pr\u00e1tica de adentrar regi\u00f5es ocultas que meu av\u00f4 era mais afamado. No vajrayana se acredita que h\u00e1 lugares ocultos em toda a parte. Pode ser que haja um no Bronx. Creio que os xam\u00e3s norte-americanos tamb\u00e9m sabiam como fazer para acessar essas regi\u00f5es ocultas e lugares de poder. Lembro-me vagamente de ter lido sobre algo chamado <\/span>sitio<\/i><\/span> num livro de um dos disc\u00edpulos de Don Juan.<\/span><\/p>\n

Ir para uma terra oculta \u00e9 a mais radical rebeli\u00e3o contra o mundo sams\u00e1rico, algo como abandonar a sociedade e ir pra uma comuna, mas \u00e9 mais do que apenas isso. Guru Rinpoche descreveu essas terras ocultas em seus ensinamentos. Algumas se pode acessar, outras n\u00e3o, e nunca nenhuma \u00e9 f\u00e1cil de achar. As que s\u00e3o acess\u00edveis \u00e0s vezes t\u00eam um prazo de validade. Outras se deslocam ou migram, ou simplesmente deixam de conter a energia das terras ocultas, independentemente de algu\u00e9m jamais ter posto os p\u00e9s l\u00e1 ou n\u00e3o. Se algu\u00e9m consegue revelar uma regi\u00e3o oculta deve permanecer l\u00e1 at\u00e9 que o prop\u00f3sito de t\u00ea-lo feito tenha se cumprido \u2013 o que pode levar alguns dias, algumas d\u00e9cadas ou algumas gera\u00e7\u00f5es. O tempo a decorrer n\u00e3o pode ser uma preocupa\u00e7\u00e3o de quem se ocupa de tal tarefa.<\/span><\/p>\n

Guru Rinpoche deixou guias e mapas codificados para certas terras ocultas, incluindo quais os m\u00e9todos se deve usar para viajar at\u00e9 elas, onde acampar ao longo do caminho, se \u00e9 ou n\u00e3o permitido fazer fogueiras, como ler sinais do tipo como saber se um certo canto de p\u00e1ssaro \u00e9 acolhedor ou n\u00e3o ao viajante, se \u00e9 ou n\u00e3o permitido se atravessar a fronteira carregando cobre ou chumbo, como interpretar o comportamento das lesmas (que s\u00e3o como dakinis guardi\u00e3s) e instru\u00e7\u00f5es detalhadas sobre o que se deve fazer ao se chegar at\u00e9 uma delas. Ele declarou que h\u00e1 benef\u00edcios incomensur\u00e1veis em se viajar \u00e0s terras ocultas. Al\u00e9m da sabedoria que se pode acessar em tais lugares, h\u00e1 o fant\u00e1stico benef\u00edcio de j\u00e1 n\u00e3o se estar mais circunscrito a um mundo regido pelo pensamento racional. A capacidade de decifrar os c\u00f3digos e ler esses guias que desvelam uma terra oculta \u00e9 encontrada <\/span>apenas em um tipo muito especial de praticante e de condi\u00e7\u00f5es. A condi\u00e7\u00e3o indispens\u00e1vel \u00e9 a motiva\u00e7\u00e3o e a atitude. Se o sujeito for demasiado um covarde cr\u00edtico e racionalista ou se lhe faltar <\/span>a aud\u00e1cia de abandonar todo e qualquer ponto de refer\u00eancia, muito provavelmente nunca encontrar\u00e1 uma regi\u00e3o oculta. Curiosidade s\u00f3 n\u00e3o basta.<\/span><\/p>\n

Haver\u00e1 tantas prova\u00e7\u00f5es ao longo do caminho que mesmo o maior praticante pode chegar bem perto de conseguir e ainda assim falhar. E ap\u00f3s muita adversidade, houve quem por fim enxergasse ao longe a <\/span>terra oculta,<\/span> mas ao desviar o olhar por um instante ela desaparecera. H\u00e1 not\u00edcia de isso ter ocorrido.<\/span><\/p>\n

\"Lama

Lama Sonam Zangpo, meu av\u00f4 materno<\/em><\/p><\/div>\n

Meu av\u00f4 tinha toda a motiva\u00e7\u00e3o, a determina\u00e7\u00e3o indivisa e a for\u00e7a necess\u00e1rias para ser um buscador de terras ocultas. Em 1951 ele corajosamente decidiu fazer uma jornada para desvelar uma terra oculta, atravessando geleiras e tempestades, bambuzais e lama\u00e7ais, cruzando despenhadeiros e vales, se valendo de profecias e de um guia deixado por Padmasambhava havia mais de 1200 anos. Cerca de cem pessoas o seguiram, deixando para tr\u00e1s seu sustento, seus lares, seus rebanhos, suas terras e tudo o mais. Eles basicamente decidiram virar um tipo de ultra-hippie.<\/span><\/p>\n

O lugar que meu av\u00f4 encontrou, desvelou e estabeleceu foi chamado de Khenpajong, que significa Vale da Artem\u00edsia, onde ele permaneceu por uma d\u00e9cada. Enquanto l\u00e1 vivia, conseguiu encontrar um noivo com um nariz e um temperamento peculiares, do Tibete, e o trouxe para que se casasse com sua quieta e meditativa filha. Como resultado desse con\u00fabio, nasci nessa terra oculta. <\/span>Disseram-me que meus pais tiveram outro filho antes de mim que morreu logo ap\u00f3s o nascimento, ent\u00e3o<\/span>, \u00e9 poss\u00edvel que eu seja a \u00fanica crian\u00e7a nascida em Khenpajong que ainda est\u00e1 por a\u00ed deixando sua pegada de carbono e contribuindo para a devasta\u00e7\u00e3o do planeta. Logo ap\u00f3s o meu nascimento, todos os humanos que l\u00e1 viviam abandonaram Khenpajong. O Vale da Artem\u00edsia foi completamente, totalmente<\/span>, abandonado.<\/span><\/p>\n

\"face\"

Pintura de Nicholas Roerich<\/em><\/p><\/div>\n

 <\/p>\n

[1]<\/a> Jamphel Yeshe Gyaltsen Tibetan<\/a>:\u00a0\u0f50\u0f74\u0f56\u0f0b\u0f56\u0f66\u0f9f\u0f53\u0f0b\u0f60\u0f47\u0f58\u0f0b\u0f51\u0f54\u0f63\u0f0b\u0f61\u0f7a\u0f0b\u0f64\u0f7a\u0f66\u0f0b\u0f62\u0f92\u0fb1\u0f63\u0f0b\u0f58\u0f5a\u0f53\u0f0b,\u00a0Dagpo<\/a>, 1910 –\u00a0Lhasa<\/a>, 1947) foi um\u00a0tulku<\/a>\u00a0\u00a0tibetano<\/a> e o quinto\u00a0Reting Rinpoche<\/a>.<\/p>\n

\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Uma das minhas mem\u00f3rias mais vivas \u00e9 a cozinha enfuma\u00e7ada da minha fam\u00edlia, com seu fog\u00e3o de tijolos de barro e uma plataforma que pendia dos caibros, na qual a lenha era estocada. Nessa cozinha eram picados os vegetais, o ch\u00e1 era preparado, enquanto nossas narinas iam ficando pretas de fuligem conforme aliment\u00e1vamos o fogo […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":2003,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"_et_pb_use_builder":"off","_et_pb_old_content":"One of my strongest memories is of my family's smoky kitchen with its clay hearth and a platform hung from the rafters holding the firewood. Here, vegetables were chopped, tea was churned, and our nostrils turned black as we fed the fire with slow-burning knots from pine branches. The knots were also used to make lamps. But most importantly, this is where the family gathered for meals. After dinner, the adults told folk stories and the gomchen<\/em> scared us with their tales of ghosts and shadows. The same story could be told a hundred times and neither the teller nor the listener would tire. Occasionally, on special days, we might light a kerosene lamp, whose workings fascinated us kids.\n\n[caption id=\"attachment_146\" align=\"alignleft\" width=\"187\"]\"King King Ugyen Wangchuk, 1905<\/em>[\/caption]\n\n[caption id=\"attachment_147\" align=\"alignleft\" width=\"226\"]\"Lhasa, Regent Gyeltshap Reting Rinpoche <\/em>[\/caption]\n\nI have clear memories of sharing meals with my maternal grandparents, Lama Sonam Zangpo and Dendup Palmo. Lama Sonam Zangpo could tell the best tales. He was known for his photographic memory and he remembered all the histories and legends. His descriptions of the beard of the first king of Bhutan, Sir Ugyen Wangchuck, or how handsome and striking the teenaged Gyaltsab Reting Rinpoche[1]<\/a> was as the 13th Dalai Lama led him into the Jokhang Monastery, made his stories come alive.\n\nMy Grandfather was like a treasury of fairy tales. I am still desperately trying to remember one particular story he told me about a dog that was an emanation of Green Tara rescuing a small boy. I remember vividly that the dog lead the boy by carrying a beautiful flower in its mouth, but I have a distinct feeling I will not remember the rest of the story perhaps until the moment I breathe in or out my last breath.\n\nAlmost every day, my grandfather would mutter about a hidden land where he had once lived and which he still longed for. He was so nostalgic for this hidden place: If we were eating fern, it wasn't as green as it had been at the hidden place. No buttermilk was as delicious as it had been there. Artemisia found anywhere else was nowhere near as fragrant as it had been there. And he was especially nostalgic about the fungus that had grown on the trees.\n\nMy only memory of that hidden land is of some strong sunlight, a verandah, and maybe a small vegetable garden.\n\nThere are countless unimaginable methods to discover wisdom in Tantric Buddhism \u2014 for example, by vanishing completely. One of my own tutors disappeared one day and we never saw him again. There is a method of convincingly pretending to be crazy and abandoning all social norms. Another one of my tutors took that path. There is a method of delicately extracting juniper seeds without disturbing the branches, and then abstaining from all food and drink except the essence of those seeds; through fasting one lets go of the habits of munching, stuffing, and digesting, and through that, wisdom and energy are uncovered, prana and nadis are balanced. My grandfather Lama Sonam Zangpo was well known for this chulan<\/em> practice; he had the steadiest hands. I remember him in his late 80s almost showing off by painting a seed syllable on a grain of rice using a brush made with two hairs.\n\nBut it is the practice of going into hidden lands that my grandfather was best known for. In the Vajrayana it is believed that there are hidden spots everywhere. There could even be one in the Bronx. I believe the Native American shamans also used to know how to access hidden lands and power spots. I vaguely remember reading about something called sitio<\/em> in a book by one of Don Juan's disciples.\n\nGoing to a hidden land is the ultimate rebellion against the samsaric world, like dropping out of society and joining a commune, but much more than that. Guru Rinpoche described these hidden lands in his teachings. Some are reachable, some not, all are never easy to find. Those that are reachable may have expiration dates. Some shift or migrate or simply stop having the energy of being a hidden land, regardless of whether or not anyone has set foot there. If you manage to unlock a hidden land, you must stay there until its purpose is served, which could be a few days, a few decades, or a few generations. You can't care about your term.\n\nGuru Rinpoche left coded guides and maps to some hidden lands, including which methods to use to travel there, where to camp along the way, whether or not fires are allowed, how to read the signs, such as whether a certain birdcall is welcoming or not, whether copper or lead is allowed across the boundary, how to read the behavior of the leeches (who are like guardian dakinis), and detailed instructions about what to do once you reach there. He said there are immeasurable benefits to traveling to hidden lands. In addition to the wisdom one may access there, there is the amazing benefit of no longer having to abide in a world limited by rational thought. Deciphering the codes and reading the guides to unlock a hidden land takes a very special practitioner and very special conditions. The primary condition is motivation and attitude. If one is too much of a rational and critical coward, if one doesn't have the daringness to leave behind every known reference point, chances are one will never find a hidden land. Curiosity is not motivation enough at all.\n\nThere will be so many ordeals along the way; even the greatest practitioner can get quite close and still fail. And after much hardship, some have finally set eyes on a hidden land, but when glanced away for a moment, it vanished. This has happened.\n\n[caption id=\"attachment_148\" align=\"alignleft\" width=\"197\"]\"Lama Lama Sonam Zangpo, my maternal grandfather<\/em>[\/caption]\n\nMy grandfather had all the necessary motivation, one-pointed determination, and strength necessary for a hidden land searcher. In 1951, he bravely decided to take a journey to unlock a hidden land, through ice and storms, through bamboo and slush, along cliffs and through valleys, using the prophecies and a guidebook that was left by Padmasambhava more than 1,200 years ago. About 100 people followed him, abandoning their livelihood, their homes, cattle, farms, everything. Basically they decided to be the ultimate hippies.\n\nThe place that my grandfather found, unlocked, and settled, was called Khenpajong, which means Valley of Artemisia or mugwort, and he stayed there for a decade. While he was there, he managed to find a groom with a distinctive nose and mood from Tibet and brought him to marry his quiet and meditative daughter. As a result of that pairing, I was born in the hidden land. People tell me that one child was born to my parents before me but died soon after, so I am perhaps the only child born in Khenpajong who is still going around the world leaving carbon footprints and contributing to the destruction of the world. Soon after I was born, every single human being left Khenpajong. The Valley of Artemisia was totally, utterly abandoned.\n\n[caption id=\"attachment_144\" align=\"aligncenter\" width=\"640\"]\"face\" Painting by Nicholas Roerich<\/em>[\/caption]\n\n \n\n[1]<\/a> Jamphel Yeshe Gyaltsen Tibetan<\/a>: \u0f50\u0f74\u0f56\u0f0b\u0f56\u0f66\u0f9f\u0f53\u0f0b\u0f60\u0f47\u0f58\u0f0b\u0f51\u0f54\u0f63\u0f0b\u0f61\u0f7a\u0f0b\u0f64\u0f7a\u0f66\u0f0b\u0f62\u0f92\u0fb1\u0f63\u0f0b\u0f58\u0f5a\u0f53\u0f0b, Dagpo<\/a>, 1910 - Lhasa<\/a>, 1947) was a Tibetan<\/a> tulku<\/a> and the fifth Reting Rinpoche<\/a>.","_et_gb_content_width":"","footnotes":""},"project_category":[46],"project_tag":[],"class_list":["post-2002","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\/2002","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=2002"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/mugwortborn.com\/pt-br\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/project\/2002\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":4255,"href":"https:\/\/mugwortborn.com\/pt-br\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/project\/2002\/revisions\/4255"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mugwortborn.com\/pt-br\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/2003"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/mugwortborn.com\/pt-br\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=2002"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"project_category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mugwortborn.com\/pt-br\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/project_category?post=2002"},{"taxonomy":"project_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mugwortborn.com\/pt-br\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/project_tag?post=2002"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}