Chogyam Trungpa Tribute Page

Praise to Trungpa Rinpoche

noreply@blogger.com (Chronicles of CTR) — Mon, 26 Apr 2010 21:58:00 +0000

Praise to Rinpoche in Surmang,

Monastic student and prolific, young, vajra master.

Praise to you who escaped to India and leapt to the British Isles.

Praise to you who went to Tak Seng, giving us all the Sadhanna of Mahamudra.

Praise to you leaping to North America,

Magnetizing students to Tail of the Tiger.

Praise to you in blue jeans and suspenders under the Rocky Mountain so blue sky,

Teaching the four "savage truths" with a big smile.

Praise to you in gray suit, sipping sake while giving no ground to the shaggy hippy

Naropa audience.

Praise to you in tuxedo in Denver, watching the Regent dance with Lady Diana.

Praise to you in yellow robes—radiation without radiator.

Praise to you in khaki

and praise to you in pristine Great Ocean uniform with black riding boots

astride Drala, galloping down from the higher realms.

Praise to you in your office so available,

Looking over spectacles at us as if to ask, "Really?"

Praise to Rinpoche in Cape Breton, PEI, and in the Apple Blossom Festival

Of the Annapolis Valley,

surrounded by your retinue of youthful dakinis.

Praise to you who could tickle and awe.

Praise to you, Druk Sakyong, for creating this Kingdom of Shambhala.

Praise to you and your chubby right hand, wielding the big brush,

And praise to you and your left hand of prajna, so often cupped in your lap

As if holding a skull cup or standing vajra.

Praise to you and your sadhanas, guru yogas, poems both traditional and Ginsberg-esque

And for your dharma books that continue to pour down from the dharmakaya.

Praise to you in the pine needles and summer grasses,

In the raindrops racing down the window and in the gathering clouds.

Praise to you in the rainbows, single or double,

In the storms and high winds,

In the fire of fire pujas and in the sand of sand mandalas.

Praise to you Rinpoche!

Honk a horn, blow gyalings,

Beat a drum, or sky-write "Praise!"

Raise a toast in Bobby Burns fashion:

"Praise to you now who are everywhere!"

--Linda V. Lewis, April 2010

HUM

noreply@blogger.com (Chronicles of CTR) — Thu, 08 Apr 2010 20:29:00 +0000

I prostrate to the guru
Who embodies the three jewels
I prostrate to the guru
Who sometimes abides on the top of my head
As compassionate nirmanakaya
I prostrate to the guru
Who sometimes resides in the secret center
As blazing sambhogakaya
I prostrate to the guru
Who always presides in my heart
As essence of life
I prostrate to the guru
All-pervasive space

In the natural hierarchy of the heart
You are the emperor
From the palace of great bliss
You rule the worlds
With incomparable kindness
You tend the subjects
As a flower to the sun
The lotus of devotion turns to you, Lord

I prostrate to the guru, who is wisdom
I prostrate to the guru, who is joy
I prostrate to the guru of existence
I prostrate to the guru, who is life

With infinite patience you tame this rebel mind
And save me from the pain of conditioned existence
You lead me on the path of virtuous action
And empower me to become myself

I prostrate to the guru of example
I prostrate to the guru, who is light
I prostrate to the guru of great passion
I prostrate to the guru, who is space

I prostrate to the guru, who is sadness
I prostrate to the guru, who is pain
I prostrate to the guru, who is madness
I prostrate to the guru, the great sun

-Olive Colon,
Chakrasamvara retreat doha, June 1989

I pay homage

noreply@blogger.com (Chronicles of CTR) — Thu, 08 Apr 2010 20:25:00 +0000

I pay homage to the glorious
Holy Guru
sometimes Nyingma, sometimes Kagyu
sometimes That luminous awakeness
which is your own mind.
I bow to the glorious
Holy Guru
the flower falling from cloudless sky
the wall of razors
cutting the vein of ego.
I prostrate to the glorious
Holy Guru
the torch lighting the way
the rug pulled out beneath
I praise the glorious
Holy Guru
who shows the mind at rest
who bombards the mind with thoughts.
Between this and that
resting in awareness beyond right and wrong
knowing the difference
singing the song of wakefulness
like the king of birds
leaving the mountains below,
I pay homage to the one......
That which liberates all.

came to mind on a mountain top in oregon
i remember my only father Chogyam Trungpa
may we rest our weary minds and see what is.
thank you,

Tharpa Lodro aka bobby higgins

A tribute, from a new student

noreply@blogger.com (Chronicles of CTR) — Mon, 05 Apr 2010 19:34:00 +0000

Chogyam Trungpa's mischevious glint

shook me up, ask

whassat funk yer in?

no thisses no thats!

just touch and go

smile sweethearts

on the road to O

Rinpoche has so gracefully, lovingly and so unapologetically persuaded me that I am both luminous and normal; capable of anything imaginable and everything unimaginable. Studying and living with his Sangha feeds itself inexorably, like jumping onto a waterslide: no amount of even my stubbornness can defy the forward motion and the pool beyond.

The transition from way open-heartedness to speed was cushioned by an almost endless moonlit walk in the park. We drifted through misty black and white gardens in a sea of softly rumbling colour, relishing the last of our retreat before diving back into this turbulent ocean, somewhat wiser, somewhat sadder and somehow more in love.

His own love so utterly disarming, forgiving, confident that a drop dissolves confusion, instills a warrior's gentle strength and in particular with The Sakyong, the clarity to live each moment for each other. Now then, happily humbled to find a community dedicated to helping one another so vulnerably living, loving and hurting, buoyed by compassion, propelled by wisdom.

All hail the happy man from Tibet and his glorious extended family!!

Edmund Butler

January 2010

Tribute to Chogyam Trungpa Rinpoche

noreply@blogger.com (Chronicles of CTR) — Sun, 04 Apr 2010 20:51:00 +0000

We Never Met

We never met,

Not in this life anyway.

Not that you didn't offer me the chance.

And even though I wasn't ready

I never forgot you.

I still see you sitting on the stage

Poised to make 'the master stroke' and then:

"I am so ashamed."

You said enough to let me know

I might grow up someday.

Does it matter that your body is gone?

Of course it matters and yet.......

Daily now

Your teachings fill my brimming eyes

The hot and salty tears

melting the ice of my cold arrogance

melting my wall of separation from others

melting all the hidden places in my heart

that have I been terrified to know.

Sometimes when I hear your voice

Or even just read your words,

the only thing I can do is deeply gasp

as if the way you just appeared was so potent

I nearly drown in just the reading of it.

So piercingly true are you,

so precise a doctor for our sick world,

for my sick heart.

On this sad and cheerful day

a toast to you, Sir.

No concoctions,

just a straight drink

tossed back with gentleness

so hot all the way down

it brings tears to my eyes.

Eyes which are beginning to see

things as they are.

Endlessly Giving

noreply@blogger.com (Chronicles of CTR) — Sun, 04 Apr 2010 16:32:00 +0000

ENDLESSLY GIVING

Court chatter,
baby blue and gold,
madness in my household,
warriorship in my living room,
never truly understanding the beauty of your chaos.

Monarch of your breath,
hard and soft cosmic touch,
tickles or cuts,

feather or razor blade,
today and tomorrow,
difficult problems of non-attachment.

Loving father,
gifting patriarch,
skillful touch of deceptively complex matriarch,
my king and queen are endless,
figments of my devotion,
to this primordial open heart.

When was the karmic genesis?
The first time you felt your heart beat!

Green pines,
sage brush and collecting juniper,
100 different shades of khaki in formation,
gentle army clumsily sharpening dignity,
liberates through genuine leader,
sake glass emptying high command has issued orders,
be kind!

Crying mouths,
why has it become so contrived,
why is the son not as the father!
unrest, mistrust and unbelievable egos,
clinging, co-opting, practicing attachment,
it started when one man was not attached,
and looked inside himself,
and it ends when you look inside yourself,
and do the same.

Choggie laughs,
smiles he'll never let you down,
except to see the truth,
unless you feel too safe.

giving endlessly in to you,
endlessly giving in to you.

I've been so tired,
but I woke up,
on April 4th,
to say goodbye again.

To tell you my love is endless,
endlessly giving to you.

-Gesar

We are all Sakyongs and Sakyong Wangmos

noreply@blogger.com (Chronicles of CTR) — Sat, 09 May 2009 14:56:00 +0000

We are all Sakyongs and Sakyong Wangmos

Eat the rice

Drink the milk

Swallow the teachings on white paper

Smile at the Guru

Stunned in ordinary magic

You float into the day AWAKE!

Shambhala Revolution

Give everything away in the snap of the fingers

No more green stamps!

No more Macdonalds!

No more countries, no more war!

Wave the victory banner

Eisenstein Awake!

Film the madness as we stop still and look

HO-HUM

-the end/the beginning

the beginning/the end

England expects every man to do his duty!

The Great Switcheroo has landed!

Rita Ashworth

Stockport UK

SUPPLICATION BEYOND TIME

noreply@blogger.com (Chronicles of CTR) — Wed, 22 Apr 2009 00:49:00 +0000

When we were insane beasts blinded by our own obsessions,

You became the Wild Yogi who paralyzed us in mid air.

When we were the horde, ravishing a corrupt heritage,

You became the youthful prince encompassing our innocence.

When we set out to conquer the meager territory of self clemency,

You became a Warrior to pierce the shadows of hope and fear.

When we were panicked, obsessed by our longevity,

You became the monarch above limitless realms.

When we cried for surfeit, a minimum of satisfaction,

You became the ultimate siddha: the dharmata beyond time.

O'guru, no one has come before you and no one after.

You have existed before the depths of our minds.

The source of your vision stands open before us.

You were not born, you did not die.

Your only manifestation is pure compassion, limitless blessing.

This is your nature, your life, the greatest gift.

Remember that which is beyond recollection.

Perceive that which is already known.

Return, though there is no where to come back to.

Chogyi Gyatso, what is your name?

This suplication was read to the Sakyong and Sakyong Wangmo at the Parinirvana gathering in NYC April 4, 2009.

-Philip Richman- This was composed Thamcho Sero (Golden Light of Dharma), October 31, 1987, on the feast day of the Glorious Heruka Chakrasamvara.

I think of the guru

noreply@blogger.com (Chronicles of CTR) — Wed, 22 Apr 2009 00:00:00 +0000

I think of the guru
I remember Trungpa Rinpoche.
I remember the wide smile and Cheshire teeth,
the cowboy shirt with suspenders,
and sometimes a cowboy hat.
I think of the crazy wisdom guru and remember velvet eyes looking over glass rims.
I think of the guru.
I remember Chogyam's chubby hands gracefully playing with a vajra,
skillfully playing with a damaru,
or holding a glass to his lips,
sipping and setting the glass soundlessly down while teaching dharma.
Distracted, I'd watch and forget to listen.
But his movements were dharma too.
I remember the guru,
walking like mahakala, holding a kasung's hand.
I remember the guru,
I remember his giggling while dribbling rice on my head or ticleling me on the sofa.
I remember the guru,
his pride in his wife and sons.
I think of the guru--
his face sweating before the Karmapa's first visit.
I think of the guru,
his tears of joy greeting and parting from His Holiness Khyentse Rinpoche.
I remember Trungpa Rinpoche
and the various experiential ways he pointed out the true nature of mind.
I remember the Druk Sakyong, suddenly self-arisen monarch in yellow robes,
proclaiming the Great Eastern Sun
not exactly to be confused with the dawn of Vajrasattva.
I remember the guru
screeching the Shambhala Anthem.

Decades have passed and new old photos appear,
but better than remembering,
the first signs of his Kingdom can be seen
And I feel the guru smiling as he moves from Dewachen to
Glorious Copper Colored Mountain to
Akanishta to Shambhala--
enjoying the realms spiritual and temporal.
And I feel the guru living in my heart.

April 15, 2009
Linda V. Lewis

above stars

noreply@blogger.com (Chronicles of CTR) — Tue, 07 Apr 2009 22:33:00 +0000

Alone beneath these stars

I sometimes wonder how far

And how I long to be alone

To wish away desires

Like a tossed skipping stone

Moving towards right mindfulness

A broken past surely won’t be missed

And with each patient moment

A little more revealed

To tickle new insights

Moving me to heal

Calmly and passively proud

This breathing begins to slow

As the depth of the night sky descends

Relieves me

To swallow me whole

For once was a fettered soul

For a jewel on a path shown

With witness and awareness dancing afar

What a journeys end becomes

Leaves me resting with these stars

By Raymon Palermo

(no subject)

noreply@blogger.com (Chronicles of CTR) — Tue, 07 Apr 2009 17:06:00 +0000

So ... you have brought me here
To the land of the Red Moon
Ruled by the dark Dao Shonu
Nevertheless I shall prostrate to Vajradhara
From Sun up to Sun down
Occassionally watching the rats eat the apples
Whilst I drink my tea and stroke Lama Red
Or hear the people laugh as the sun is caught in the mound
& the double rainbow appears
Sometimes I shall sleep dreaming of the elephant running through the burning land
But then again how do you get the cow off the land when mad farmer comes calling?!
Moonlight Young Prince
I could eat you even swallow the red Irish brick
& descend into the dark, dark ground
Heres to Dao Shonu!
Heres to Choggie!
Slianthe to you all!

(Dao Shonu -- Moonlight Young Prince was formerly one of CTR's centres in Eire)

3D Stupa in Google Earth

noreply@blogger.com (Chronicles of CTR) — Sun, 05 Apr 2009 16:05:00 +0000

On this 22 anniversary of the parinirvana of the Vidyadhara Chogyam Trungpa Rinpoche I would like to make the small offering of a virtual stupa (which is not entirely finished) that can be seen at the virtual SMC in Google Earth. First get the Google Earth program FREE at http://earth.google.com/download-earth.html

Then get the 3D stupa file.The file is about 2 mb, and can be downloaded by clicking here.

There is also a version at the Google 3D warehouse but for some reason it appears as grey and not white, and without full color gate details. This one should appear as I intended. Now open Google Earth and make sure you have the view "3D buildings" and "terrain" option turned on in the layers menu (bottom left) and then double click the 3D stupa file you downloaded. Google earth should take you directly to SMC but sometimes not, so you can type it in to the search window if necessary (though people have located this place as far away as boulder). Take the time to navigate with the controls (to the upper right) around the stupa. Virtual circumambulation while not equal to the real thing must be somewhat beneficial!?

If you don't want to go through all that you can see some 2D pictures of the 3D stupa at http://www.4shared.com/dir/13591655/91c5e24d/sharing.html

Just click on the folder named pictures of 3D great stupa.All the best,Greg Smith

Poem for Chogyam Trungpa Tribute Page

noreply@blogger.com (Chronicles of CTR) — Sat, 04 Apr 2009 18:23:00 +0000

For the Eyes of the Solitary Warrior Only

The War was Never Begun.
The Battle Never Ends.
Winning and Losing are Costly Illusions.

The Solitary Warrior Knows when to Engage.
Make a Good Dinner; Be Sure and Place Flowers.

by Philip A. Bralich, Ph.D. from c1990 Vajrayogini Fire Puja.

Allies

noreply@blogger.com (Chronicles of CTR) — Sat, 04 Apr 2009 12:49:00 +0000

Underneath
There is always a tender heart

A promise to fulfill
A sunrise for the faithful
A whisper for the waiting

Chaos for the insightful
Dissapointment for the clever
Wonder for the fearless
and soft-hearted

Protectors await
to melt arrogance and self-righteousness

How can we draw lines
When our allies are so close?

Dudley Jackson
Columbia, SC
April 4th 2009

Chogyam Trungpa

noreply@blogger.com (Chronicles of CTR) — Sat, 04 Apr 2009 12:46:00 +0000

By Lee Weingrad
(To the tune of "Joe Hill")

I dreamed I saw the Vidyadhara
alive as you and me.
Says I "But Boss, you're twenty years dead"
"I never died" said he,
"I never died" said he.

"The 3 Lords killed you Sir,
they shot you Boss" says I.
"Takes more than maras to kill a man"
Says the Boss "I didn't die"
Says Boss "I didn't die"

And standing there as big as life
and smiling with his eyes.
Said Boss "What wasn't born can never die
went on to organize,
went on to organize"

A toast to the Dorje Dradul of Mukpo Dong

noreply@blogger.com (Chronicles of CTR) — Sun, 23 Nov 2008 10:51:00 +0000

It is amazing how fearful I am when facing you. I always was and may always be. Here I am again--a simple request to make a toast to you--has roused that fear again.

As I sit at the feet of the most profound, the most brilliant, the most just, the most powerful, the most all victorious person I have ever known, and may ever know for lifetimes,

Why should I be so afraid of that cosmic mirror you always hold up?

Without you I would never have learned what that quivering heart is all about and that is where the stroke of Ashe begins.

It is in that moment of fear that werma and drala begin to gather and their horses begin to stir.

I sometimes hear the sound of the harnesses, the clinking of the crystal armour, the stomping of the horses' hooves, all that energy preparing for descent into my heart and all hearts in that one, quivering moment.

Here we are in Nova Scotia.

Believe it or not, along these craggy, ocean worn shores, there are chrysanthemums growing.

It worked! Your smile produced them petal by petal,

And our tears of longing helped them grow.

Why are you not presently with us?

You are, I say, always, always, always with us, which makes me cry more.

Will my tears produce future warriors?

That is my aspiration, that is my offering.

I love you so much, I miss you so terribly

From the pain of that heartbreak I cry Ki Ki, So So

And I vow to perpetuate your world.

To the Dorje Dradul

-Trudy Sable (This is a toast that was offered some years ago at a meeting in Halifax, Lady Diana presiding.)

noreply@blogger.com (Chronicles of CTR) — Mon, 14 Apr 2008 16:49:00 +0000

You are entering my vajra word

Chogyam Trungpa Rinpoche

Never forget the Hinayana

Never forget blue/red moths on ratna bathhouse

Never forget almond liquid soap

Never forget humming bird in my eye

Never forget 13 dollar sake box

Never forget oriyoki lessons without speech

Never forget staying up for thirty hours

Never forget CTR in tent eating omlette at 10.00pm

Never forget Sergeant Lyon banging drum when I was dead, dead tired

Never forget that girl smiling

Never forget Regent Osel Tendzin empowering us all

Never forget thinking it is too bright in here

Never forget!

Heres to La Vid and 86 the best year ever!

Rita Ashworth

Stockport UK

noreply@blogger.com (Chronicles of CTR) — Sat, 05 Apr 2008 00:09:00 +0000

Haunting , As You Promised.

I would like to dream about you to ease this longing,

but your presence continues on in everything, everywhere,

so what could a dream of you satisfy?

You are there always, you are not there at all.

Sometimes I think I see you driving in another car on the L.A. freeway.

That would be so like you to show up that way, waving as you pass.

I offer my song to you when I sing.

I put you in the audience becuase it makes me tell the truth.

You really are there, you are not there at all.

I was your student when I was 17; this year I am 50.

I wonder if I have any idea about anything.

I really do wonder.

Dharma.

Then I remember I am a Mukpo, too.

And I can rely on our connection wholeheartedly.

I really don't mean to be so stupid.

I don't want to waste time.

I don't want to be distracted.

I had the best opportunity a person can ever have.

I was taken, every bit of me, by the King of the Universe.

I am writing this as if you would read it yourself,

You really are there, you are not there at all.

Offering you everything, anything, all of it, always, forever,

Always, everything, on and on, forever and ever and ever.

------

-Anne Kerry Ford

Ojai, California

Gratitude

noreply@blogger.com (Chronicles of CTR) — Fri, 04 Apr 2008 15:15:00 +0000

Let me be thankful every moment of every day
And not just for a few moments on Thanksgiving Day
In this world, full of pain, horror, love and courageousness

Somewhere someone is tortured and hunted while I am free of fear
Their suffering is as deep as the darkest chasm

Somewhere someone is without is without the food, medicine, shelter that have surrounded me
They waste and die in pain and hunger that I've never known

Somewhere someone has never been cared for as I have been cared for
They were parented by abandonment, neglect, and mistrust while I was protected and instructed by selflessness

Somewhere someone has given up hope of the rescue that I have never needed
They are desperate but sure that no one will hear their call
In a realm of barren loneliness

Let me remember the plight of the unfortunate
Let me remember the confusion of the lost
Let me remember the power of my fortune
Let me share it with the world

And when misfortune finds me
Let me be thankful for the wonders of my life
When I am sad or afraid let me be truly so and not indulgent in self-pity

Let me remember the faces of those that have loved me
Let me remember the gifts born of true love
Let me remember that I was lucky
In a world where love is precious

And if I am truly wretched
And I find that all hope has abandoned me
And all my friends are gone
And every moment is measured in pain

Let me remember
That in my heart
There is an eternal spark of love

And that I saw it and accepted it
And I saw that love and gratitude
Are one and the same

By Dudley Jackson
March/April 2008
Offered respectfully for the 21st Parinirvana of Chogyam Trungpa Rinpoche

You nailed it

noreply@blogger.com (Chronicles of CTR) — Wed, 20 Jun 2007 10:26:00 +0000

Born and bred in Tibet,
you clipped your fingernails
into the batter of Western mindlessness
and made organic hole wheat.

The first time I met you,
you stole my mind
actually, not mind
you stole my self
for a few moments.

Your fingernails of unimpededness
were eaten by the hungry students:
Mukpo keratin.
You rose to every occasion.
It was the yeast you could do.

-Elisabeth Gold

I was looking for you all over

noreply@blogger.com (Chronicles of CTR) — Mon, 28 May 2007 06:03:00 +0000

I was looking for you all over

And couldn't find you anywhere

When I rested my mind in sadness

Your presence become overwhelming

Displaying phenomena dancing

From Angelika Siaw (Karma Phun Tso Cho Dron)

Sadhakha living in Kenya

noreply@blogger.com (Chronicles of CTR) — Wed, 23 May 2007 11:35:00 +0000

Attendant.

ET Guru

Waiting at the door

Falling at the door

Through the years

Of madness

To a point of kissing Angels

Loved and very distant

ET Guru shuffles off

Backstaged intensely watching

Worlds/indifferences/demons

Confusions/contests/clarities

Of references points

Annihilated by nectar

In Londons' public houses

ET Guru

Tinkles Bell

Cremates this/that

Cycles to the Sun

&blows up with a rainbow

Camera'ed by flicking buttons.

ET Guru you are dead?

And packaged for the millions

Like the lion on the egg*

HO HUM

HA HA HA!
Amen!

Amen!

(A lion stamp is sometimes placed on British eggs to state they are from the UK)*

Best

Rita Ashworth

Stockport UK

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1988 RMDC dathun - toast

noreply@blogger.com (Chronicles of CTR) — Fri, 18 May 2007 11:24:00 +0000

"I've no independent knowledge of meeting Chogyam Trungpa in person, face-to-face."

In 1988 at Rocky Mountain Shambhala Center, at a banquet following a dathun (4-week sitting period) I offered a toast "to the sangha" This new word was one I associated with "family" and I offered the words to those left in the wake of such a teacher's vast activities.

Rather than "wake" I became curious more of an "awake" that such a teacher might have been sharing, imbuing, steeping, and serving.

Far more than the actions of any bodhisattva, Vidyadhara, I stead on in my life to lead to... where.

I read a bumper sticker .. "They can send me to college, but they can't make me learn."

I leave this cyberspace with a short poem:

I'm so, I'm so

in love with you

dharma be tried

before it is true.

Karma Sherab

20 years ago

noreply@blogger.com (Chronicles of CTR) — Mon, 14 May 2007 22:17:00 +0000

we had gone to the ocean to release lobsters that would have otherwise been eaten
a ransom gift for Rinpoche's life

I never thought he would-somehow ...
anyway

there we were out on the ocean, where I loved to take walks
and extremely odd occurrence: there were tons of people there just looking at the water
for the water was full of ice
the whole harbour had filled with ice
an uncommon thing to happen
uncommon things happen when uncommon people are around

Rinpoche had been in bed for quite a long time
I was the housekeeper and had the wondrous task of cleaning his room
slowly and fully

Rinpoche was sometimes like a shaft of wheat without the kernel
all used up and shrunken
then the next day he would be "back" his body would be filled again

like the wheat kernel had been reinserted in the chaff
to be with him somehow stilled fear of dying
there was no fear

I kept my mind in a meditative state as much as possible, hoping to not disturb him
so it went
one day they took him to the hospital, another day they brought him back
I was gone for a bit and when I came back he was still sick and again in the hospital

so off we went to take the lobster to the ocean
back home for them, although a bit polluted near Halifax
people asked us what we were doing
it was a strange site, people carrying lobsters back to the ocean
luckily Joseph (Parent) knew what to say
he explained when a great teacher is ill it is an ancient custom
to release beings who would otherwise be killed
so the lobsters went back to their home

a few days later, I as sitting in the sun for it was 24 degrees
unheard of in early April in Halifax, N.S.
but then unusual things happen when there are unusual people around
my then husband, Richard, called to say: come to the shrine room
Rinpoche is dying and we are to do chants to ask him to live
off I went, not believing he could die
hadn't he just said at '82 seminary that our practice would keep him alive for 10 more years

lots of shrine candles, so many that some broke from the heat
shrine full of light
beautiful chant
heart wrenching
then a call
we all went to the court

as I walked in through the front door, I felt on the verge of loosing my mind
not just my seat
and there in full suit and tie as kasung was Silas, my son this lifetime, and he said something
something so true and to the point that it brought me back
fully present, open and willing

I was able somehow, I think due to Joudie (Westman Adolf),
to be present as they checked Rinpoche's body
they pinched his skin and felt the area around his heart
his skin was supple like a living person's and his heart warm

we stayed practicing there with Rinpoche for 5 days
5 days of being in CCL
not needing food nor sleep
just being in Rinpoche's mind

there was a nun, a French nun
she was with me practicing through all that time
I had not seen her before nor since
she said Rinpoche would be in samadhi for 5 days
and that turned out to be true

after the samadhi, we actually felt hungry and tired again

sometime within all of that practice
I acted as a guide bringing sangha who were arriving from
all over the world from the airport to Halifax to be with Rinpoche
not sure how that happened, as memory of the time is open and vast
not fitable into time and space
Many sangha and friends of sangha came to be there together in Rinpoche's mind

Rinpoche's total compassion
to the heart
all encompassing

being there
knowing that state fully, in every cell
unforgettable teaching beyond words

after the samadhi
off we went to KCL
serving Dilgo Khyentse and the four princes
sound as mantra
the trucks on the highway arising as dhamarus and bells
walking up the hill in procession
bagpipes in the fog crying to the guru
khatas
the fire
billowing smoke
in the clear blue sky
rainbows circling the sun
turquoise dragon thundering
mind stopped

outrageous things happen when outrageous people are around

may VCTR haunt us along with the dralas for all lifetimes till we realize enlightenment

- Hellen Newland, Chaplain

I was looking for you all over

noreply@blogger.com (Chronicles of CTR) — Sun, 13 May 2007 05:40:00 +0000

I was looking for you all over

and couldn't find you anywhere.

When I rested my mind in sadness

your presence became overwhelming,

displaying phenomena dancing.

Karma Phun Tso Cho Dron (Angelika)