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Speedy road trip to kindness
Posted: August 19, 2010
By Helen Bonzi
The trip started out badly and I felt set up for a weekend of edginess and irritation. My mother was traveling with me. She’s a wonderful traveler and a helpful navigator. Good directions are also very helpful. This time I was ill prepared for our road trip and I didn’t have all the directions in hand. The night before we left I had printed out directions as far as White River Junction, where our hotel was, and sort of got the general idea where Pema Osel Do Ngak Choling was located. We got off to a very late start on Friday and in my haste to get on the road I forgot some of the most important items necessary for this voyage. I left home without my camera, and I forgot my computer, which had all my directions, tickets, and the name and location of our hotel tucked away in numerous emails. We had the directions to White River Junction, but only the name of the school where we were supposed to park our car, register for the event, and catch a bus to the venue. And, as luck would have it, we got caught in the worst traffic jam I’ve ever been in. Now, I have spent time in places renowned for their spectacular traffic jams and by far this was the worst. The cars were not actually moving for long periods of time. When they did move, it was to creep along a foot at a time. This stand-still traffic jam on 1-95, just north of Portland, Maine, set us back two long and irritating hours. We still had four hours to go of our five hour drive and we’d been on the road for three and a half hours already. How does that math add up? My edginess was almost palpable.
When we got to White River Junction we were so late and we had no idea which hotel we were staying in so we just drove on by towards where I thought the venue was located. We knew we needed to find the parking lot of the Vershire Elementary school in West Fairlee, Vermont. It sounded simple, but the day was quickly slipping into night and we were facing the grim possibility of driving around in rural Vermont with absolutely no idea where we were supposed to be; we were in the dark in more ways than one. There was an exit just ahead on I-91 for Fairlee and I figured it would be right next to West Fairlee. When we got off the highway we immediately stopped, and got what I found to be the standard directions: “Go down that road. When you get to the bottom of the big hill take a right. It should be right there.” We would get these same directions several times, from a variety of places. This time when we got to the bottom of the hill, the road was there but no elementary school. We drove along that road for miles and went through all the different permutations of Thetford that one can possibly imagine. There was South Thetford, Central Thetford, Thetford Hill, East Thetford, Thetford Grange, Lesser Thetford, but no West Fairlee. And we were, officially, very late. There was also that nagging thought at the back of my mind that we hadn’t checked into our hotel. Would they hold the rooms for us? Would we be sleeping on the ground or in the back of the car, no blankets, no pillows, no comfy mattress? We turned around when all hope seemed lost of finding the elementary school in that direction and drove back to the intersection at the bottom of that big hill. Another half an hour had gone by. There was another gas station there so we stopped again and asked how to get to the Vershire Elementary school in West Fairlee. The attendant at the gas station claimed he wasn’t from the area and didn’t know how to get there. Rather irritated, I thought to myself “Apparently not many people do!” Another person had overheard my question and helpfully said… again, “Go to the bottom of the hill and turn right, it should be right there.” Obviously that person didn’t have a clue. Then a miracle happened. A very helpful man said, ”Just continue on that road through all the Thetfords and you’ll get there”. Here was a man who had actually been there and knew his rural Vermont! I took heart and got back in the car and drove through all those very scenic Thetfords again and behold, just past the last of them was West Fairlee and the Vershire Elementary School, as promised. My edginess had grown to excessive proportions and I didn’t like the thought of walking into the beginning of this weekend tired, irritated and sure to have a gigantic klesha attack. I had the thought that it might be a good idea to work on trying to develop some patience; it’s said to be one of the paramitas, and I was supposed to be a practitioner.
I parked the car in the field at the school and got out, stiff, tired, and with a speedy mind, as only one can be who has spent hours in traffic, lost, and determined to get somewhere, anywhere! It was at this point that I realized I had to try to quiet my speedy thoughts and slow down that speedy mind in there because I had been at breakneck speed for many, many days. It hadn’t served me very well, only accomplishing a mass of confusion and so much noise in my head that I could hardly function. Slow down, breathe, smell the mowed grass, enjoy the clear, cold evening and the sounds of reuniting friends. There were so many stars out, no lights from big cities to dim their glittering and twinkling in the sky, just stop for a moment. Then I heard a familiar voice and that unmistakable laugh! Jan Wilcox. How many years had passed since I’d seen her? Who was that person who looked so familiar but I can’t quite remember their name? There would be a lot of that over the next three days. And the mind was off and running again, a little slower maybe, I hoped.
It was time to check in and see what the situation was with this program. I walked up to the registration tables. There was no line, probably because we were very late. I presumed that most people had already been through the process. The registration people were so very cheerful and helpful. There was nothing to it. I got my registration envelope from them and directions to join the others on a bus, which would take us to Pema Osel Do Nak Choling. All the staff for the program were so nice, helpful, cheerful, and willing to discuss any matter. We were directed to the main building by the traffic control people, then to the main shrine room by the “guards” wearing white sashes. There were so many staff people willing to help direct us to our “Blue Badge” seating area, each more kindly and cheerful than the last. The escorts for each section had similarly colored sashes and badges. It made it very clear where one was to sit. We found seats in our section. In the midst of all the quiet organization and sense of rich elegance it was hard to hold onto the jangly edge of a day spent lost and fighting traffic. The sharpness and speed drifted to the dim reaches at the edge of my mind. I relaxed and settled into my seat and waited for Rinpoche to arrive. This was going to be a monumental event.
Then it happened. Someone, not me this time, had a klesha attack. It was about seating. The people who had spent countless hours registering everyone finally arrived just before all of the Rinpoches were to enter the shrine room. They had reserved seats for themselves earlier in the day but someone else had come along and removed their name tags because the registrars were supposed to be in the “Red Badge” section, not the “Blue Badge” section. It was a sticky and awkward few moments. Eventually everyone managed to find a seat and sit down. One of the registrars was very irritated and I could definitely relate. I was left thinking that I always experience some sort of bout of irritation and then behave badly, like a petulant child when I’m at a program. It seems to bring the worst out in me. I could only promise myself that this time I would intentionally not let my petty irritations get the better of me. I made an effort to look at the speediness and irritations and put them out of my mind. There was no place for them here.
That evening Rabjam Rinpoche gave a wonderful talk about HH Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche and told many stories about his life. All the while he was beaming and smiling. He radiated joy and compassion. The total devotion to his teacher was so clearly evident. There was one memorable story that Rinpoche told about a devoted student who presented a khata to His Holiness and said he was there to see Rinpoche for the benefit of all sentient beings. After Rinpoche blessed the khata, the student said he was receiving the blessings on behalf of all sentient beings and dedicating that merit to all beings so they may attain Buddhahood. The student had committed this totally pure act. I will keep this story in mind, hopefully, as I try to determine my own motivations.
That night there was also a brilliant slide show and talk given by Matthieu Ricard. The images were stunningly beautiful. Matthieu has a way of catching the precise moment when all the beauty and majesty of the subject is fully revealed. He has also had the great fortune to travel with and photograph many of the great masters of our times. He shared many of those images with us that evening and many of the stories that went with them. It’s not always the revered teachers Matthieu captures, but the places as well. There were images of stark mountain ranges, small flowers, and the brilliance of a rainbow caught in the reflection of the edge of the camera’s lens. There were places I’ll never go and people I’ll never get the chance to see, but Matthieu has collected them and put them together to share with all of us. We are the fortunate ones to be able to see through his lens and hear his telling of the great masters in image and stories.
Saturday morning arrived and we had to hustle to get to the school again and catch another bus up to Pema Osel. We were supposed to be there at 7:00 and it was already 7:15 and we were still at our hotel, 25 minutes away. I could feel the pressure and speediness creeping back in. When we got there a bus was quietly waiting for us with several people on it. Several more people arrived and the bus got a little full, another bus came and positioned itself for any more stragglers, and off we went to the venue. We weren’t the last ones there and no one else seemed to be in a great hurry. I started to relax again, and let the people who were putting on this well organized and stately event take care of me.
We began our morning with Dzigar Kongtrul Rinpoche leading us in sitting meditation. It was so nice to just sit and settle. When Rinpoche got up to leave after the session he spent several minutes fiddling with something by his throne and then he was limping a little and had to make another stop at the main shrine for several more minutes. From there he announced, with a little grin, that his foot was still asleep and he couldn’t get it to wake up. He’s just like me! My feet always fall asleep when I sit! I, however, try to wiggle and move about the entire session so they won’t be too uncomfortable. Rinpoche sat like a stone the entire time. Another thing to keep in mind.
Dilgo Khyentse Yangsi Rinpoche came into the shrine room to give his first talk a little later. As he was sitting there on his throne, between Rabjam Rinpoche and Dzigar Kongtrul Rinpoche, I wondered how in the world this 17 year old could manage to give a dharma talk with those two flanking him. That’s an intimidating position, but Khyentse Yangsi Rinpoche gave a wonderful talk. It ended with the Eight Ways to Develop a Good Heart. As ill prepared as I was for the weekend, of course I didn’t have a pen and paper to take notes on the talk, but I really wish I had. The Eight Ways Rinpoche described were so wonderful, down to earth and accessible. After the talk someone said that he was talking about “The Eight (somethings)” and I’m not such a great scholar that I could have even figured that out, let alone remember what the person had called it! The things I do remember from Rinpoche’s talk is to develop compassion and kindness, to develop a good heart. We can develop a good heart through training our minds. We need to keep our minds and motivations pure.
The rest of the day was spent receiving the empowerment for the Rangjung Pema Nyingtik. It all seemed to go very quickly, much faster than other empowerments that I’ve attended. In fact, we got through the whole thing so quickly that we were done before the busses were scheduled to come get us to haul us back to the school and our cars. We had time to casually stroll around the grounds and talk to old friends or make new ones. The weather was quite cooperative all weekend. It was sunny the whole time, but a bit cold. So it wasn’t too hot in the shrine room with all those people stuffed in there. It was nice to spend a few unhurried leisure moments in the sun, chatting and making plans for the evening.
We chose to go to dinner at a pub in Hanover in New Hampshire, just a few miles away. They had the best hamburgers there!!! Then we were off to the screening of “Brilliant Moon”, the life of Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche. I had the great fortune to gather my courage and go up to Rabjam Rinpoche and talk to him about something that had happened when he was in Boulder just after the cremation of Chogyam Trungpa Rinpoche. When I asked him about the occurrence he smiled his huge smile and snickered a little and said he remembered it. It had to do with a race car in which he wanted to ride.
Sunday morning we sat again with Dzigar Kongtrul Rinpoche. Another delightful oasis of calm. We immediately went into the liturgy for the practice we had received the day before and opened the mandala. We continued on in the afternoon with a feast to celebrate the empowerment. It is the most enjoyable way to commemorate the receiving of such a gift. The presentation of this feast was by far the most elegant and lovely I have seen. The feast offerings were presented in silk bags and handed out to every participant, and the offerings of song and dance were amusing, artistic, and exuberant. There was a rendition of the Shambhala Anthem that is unrivaled in its playfulness and sheer joy. Trungpa Rinpoche would have really enjoyed it. Rabjam Rinpoche sure did and he spurred us on in the Warrior’s cry of Ki Ki So So Ashe Lha Gyal Lo Tak Seng Khyung Druk Di Yar Kye.
After spending so much time in traffic, with the other drivers being rude and wanting to put themselves first, being aggressive and unkind, it was a relief to spend time at Pema Osel Do Ngak Choling, where the staff was so kind and encouraging, the participants were all gentle to each other and everyone was happy to be there. I even heard one person say that the staff thanked him profusely for volunteering to hand out lunches, and he hadn’t even had the opportunity to hand out a single lunch because there were so many other volunteers. The whole weekend was so calming and went off seemingly without a hitch. The message was so clear that everyone there heard it. Be kind. I think Dilgo Khyentse Yangsi Rinpoche is teaching us to put the kindness back in humankind.
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The Gradual Path of Raising Buddhist Children:
Inner Chronicles:
Work Sex Money: Seminar Three,
Ocean of Dharma: A Shambhala Sun feature on Chögyam Trungpa by Barry Boyce
Tribute to Arbie Thalacker
Chronicles Highlights 2011
Chronicles Holiday Sampler
Dzongsar Jamyang Khyentse on the passing of his father, Thinley Norbu Rinpoche
SMR joins Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche and Rabjam Rinpoche [Video 11:35]
Tribute to Thinley Norbu Rinpoche
Qualities
Traleg Kyabgon Rinpoche on Distinguishing Ordinary Consciousness from Wisdom
At the
Tribute to Fabrice Champion
Crazy Wisdom, a review by Victress Hitchcock
Tribute to Michal Friedman
Radio interview with Chogyam Trungpa in 1971;
Mingyur Rinpoche: The essence of meditation
Julia Sagebien talks with Thrangu Rinpoche about fulfilling the aspirations of the Vidyadhara
Gold Lake Oil, by Tom Bell
THE BIG NO
Thrangu Rinpoche talks about Trungpa Rinpoche and his students [Audio 48:54]
In appreciation of the Very Venerable 9th Khenchen Thrangu Rinpoche
Teaching Stories: Never Give Up, told by Jim Lowrey
Memorial to Mary Smith, by Lee Weingrad
Conversation with Elizabeth Mattis-Namgyel: Part Three
Khyentse Foundation: Ten Years of Giving
What Made Him Tick: a Review of Crazy Wisdom by Suzanne Duarte
Teaching Stories:
Tribute to Mary Smith
