How the Queen & King Find Out That They Are

  A poem to celebrate the end of the year.

Bottom line:
We are grateful

So much is always given, coming our way, surprising us in little and sometimes bigger ways.

May you find reasons to rejoice and discover the ways to do so...  even unreasonably so.




To be bathed

& not just washed

but anointed

by this cascading waterfall

stars that are

the cells of

this unfathomable body

alone yet embraced

AH HO—all pervasively

this is how openness & bliss

unfetter the nectar stream

About ‘A History of Buddhism in India’ – A Book Review of Sorts

The writing of this short posting was inspired by Lama Sonam Tashi's pictures that he posted on Facebook recently, about his pilgrimage to the many different Buddhist sites scattered around his home state of Odisha (in the west still better known as Orissa). 

These wonderful images (some of which I shared because of my enthusiasm for Buddhist India) brought to mind the fact that quite a few of us Vajrayana practitioners know probably very little about the Indian origins of our teachings and lineages, or the entire context of ancient India, even though we may be much better informed about their later Tibetan emanations and histories. 

Sad to add that most people in India themselves know next to nothing about the twelve-hundred tears of rich Buddhist heritage literally spread all over the country, which of course also means: way beyond its present-day borders.  If we take Dudjom Rinpoche’s calculation for Shakyamuni’s parinirvana in 876 BCE as the base (rather than the more widely accepted calculation by westerns historians), it would even amount to close to nineteen-hundred years of Buddha dharma in India!  In which context we furthermore would think of and speak of India in the borders of those times, which were never fixed and unchanging, when Indian Buddhist influence ranged from the independent kingdoms along the silk-road in Central Asia in the North all the way to Sri Lanka in the South, and from parts of Afghanistan and Pakistan in the West to present-day Bangladesh and Myanmar. 

From this rich Indian Buddhist heritage in the heartland of the dharma the teachings and practices spread all over Asia and even parts of the Eastern Mediterranean.  In the Near East and Europe at the time (like during the Roman Empire and before) the dharma existed mainly as a Diaspora that left only a fleeting impact.  Whereas in Asia the Buddhist dharma emanating from India became a main, and in some places the main, cultural force—in South East Asia, in China, in Korea, in Japan, in Mongolia, even in some areas of the far reaches of Siberia which are now part of Russia.

So we should know a little more about the cradle and origins of the teachings that had such worldwide impact in what to us may appear as the distant past.  But even then the world was already pretty much connected (at least Eurasia was), albeit not as fast as today.  To the reader who is limited to the modern western languages, like myself, there is only one obstacle to learning more: the lack of non-scholarly books on the subject.  However, in this case the lack, fortunately, is not complete. 

Which brings me to the actual focus of the posting: the book Light of Liberation—A History of Buddhism in India, published as Crystal Mirror VII by Tarthang Tulku’s Dharma Publishing.  To my knowledge, it is the only book that gives an easily readable, extensive and detailed account of the dharma and its spreading and development in its country of origin.  Its presentations are partly based on textual sources, and partly developed from modern archeological research. 

The book starts out with describing the cosmological setting, touches upon the political division of Northern India, at the  time of Shakyamuni’s birth and gives a beautiful account of the Buddha’s life.  The latter is not drawn from one text but from all different scriptural sources, thus making the narrative especially vivid, interwoven with many pertinent quotes.  I learned so much from it, and was quite moved, for example by Subhadra’s story, who was Shakyamuni’s last disciple, becoming an Arhat in the very moment of his ordination.  “Then, not wishing to see the Buddha’s departure from life, he asked the Buddha for permission to enter nirvana; upon receiving the Buddha’s permission, Subhadra passed away.” I cannot explain why this little anecdote moved me so much, but it did.  This life story of the Buddha is truly rich in little known details.

Another aspect that I find particularly wonderful about this volume, are the many maps.  They reveal in one glance how much the dharma was spread all over the country, the centers of learning and sangha activity changing with the centuries.

Let’s for example look at the logician Dignaga’s life.  Most everbody will know about his affiliation with the University and monastery of Nalanda.  But Dignaga was actually born in Kanci, which I believe is located in the northern parts of today’s Tamil Nadu where he first studies the entire Tripitaka with the Vatsiputriya master Nagadatta.  Only thereafter did he proceed to Nalanda to study with Vasubandha.  His studies complete, he entered a longer retreat at a place called Bhoteshala in Odisha (Orissa).  After retreat he returnsed to Nalanada to teach, and composes treatises on Abhidharma, Buddhist logic and Vijnanavada topics, followed again by longer retreats in Odisha where he also composed his famous Pramana-Samucchaya.  After the completion of which he converted the minister of the then King of Odisha, who in turn built sixteen large monasteries in the country (inland and along the Kalinga coast).  When this was done Dignaga proceeded further south and revived Buddhist centers, which had fallen into disrepair, like in Vangi, Amaravati and probably Kanci.  In the last stages of his life he returned to and passed away in Odisha. 

It really helps to see all of this activity illustrated in a map, because it gives a better idea of its scope and geographical range.  Dignaga traveled from South to North and North to South throughout his life, from today’s Sri Lanka to today’s Uttar Pradesh and Bihar, with Odisha (Orissa) as one of its main focus.  The book is full of such maps that bring Buddhist life in India to full recognition.

May be from another vantage, none of this is important.  When these facts become only book knowledge they indeed tend to turn into dead weight.  But, imagine going to some of these places and reviving them by doing some ceremony, or just meditating, like Lama Sonam Tashi and some of his friends did in Odisha, recently!  Then the past is no longer the past.  It reveals itself as very much present.  The places and stories become alive again and unfold their powers of goodness.

In the Mahayana Mahaparinirvana Sutra (according to my root teacher Acharya Dawa Chhodak Rinpoche), it says that the Buddha’s teaching will radiate outward from India reaching the entire world.  But finally, when they have been completely extinguished elsewhere they will still flicker on a little longer in India.  Only when they finally cease to exist in India, will Shakyamuni’s teachings come to an end, before Maitreya’s teachings can appear.

For my Indian dharma friends, as for everyone else of course, I can only recommend to reconnect with India’s glorious dharma past, to presently enact it.  Reading Light of Liberation—A History of Buddhism in India, may be of assistance to make it happen.

The Auspicious Connections Leading to Meeting Lama Dawa

As Acharya Dawa Chhodak Rinpoche’s first parinirvana anniversary is close, I originally had planned on writing a blog posting about the last few days of his life that I like some others in the sangha, was fortunate to spend in his presence.  However, upon waking this morning, it occurred to me that endings are not really endings, at least not from the way Lama spoke about the matter before his passing himself.  So, instead of writing about an imaginary end, I might as well write about the events and connections that initially culminated in meeting the Lama, even though beginnings are likewise quite imaginary – mirages, phantom-like.  But then, if the concept of a ‘mirage’ is itself indeed but a ‘mirage’, where do we stand, and what are we talking about when we talk about beginnings, endings or even the elusive NOW? 

Expressing a unique and fully embodied, yet in essence ungraspable answer to this question is where the all the dharma juice really congeals!  Where the three kayas meet in being human.

Furthermore, the ‘auspicious connections’ required in order to be able to meet a true and genuine lama, do not necessarily manifest through ‘dharma-politically’ correct channels.  At least as often, especially in the ‘non-dharmic’ social environment of today, auspicious connections tend to arise through what ‘proper dharma practitioners’ might be tempted to consider ‘improper’ channels.  The origin of Lama Dawa’s sangha that formed ensuing the events of 21998 to be described in the following is a case in point.

What’s the purpose of writing such lengthy lead-in to the introduction, you ask?

The point is that anyone who is connected to Lama Dawa is so, either directly or indirectly connected to him through someone who had over time increasingly emanated a strong whiff of ‘fakeness’.  Eventually in 2003, the man was exposed as the vajrayana ‘fraud’ that he had always been – at least if we look at the picture from an ordinary point of view.  And yet, this ‘Rinpoche’ who actually wasn’t, and this Ph.D. in clinical psychology who actually wasn’t became the stepping-stone for the creation of Lama Dawa’s western sangha, and by extension Indian sangha. 

We have reason to rejoice and even praise the man, thank him profusely.  His connecting so many with Lama Dawa catapulted his merit scale into the stratosphere (may Mahakala bless his by now cremated huge black woolen socks)!  Without him, the name is Lama Yeshe by the way, none of us would have come together in the way we did, if we would have come together at all, which is doubtful.  So, never belittle fake teachers.  They could turn into your gateway to the real thing, and be it against their wish or intentions.

And this is how it unfolded, for me, or retold from my perspective:

In the mid-90s, I used to live in western Washington State, half way between Seattle and Vancouver, and fifty miles east into the Northern Cascades.  My ex, known to the world as Paula Horan (with a Ph.D. behind the name on whose mention she always strongly insisted) and I owned a house and property, although Paula hardly ever lived or stayed there.  At that time, she was a small celebrity in Reiki circles worldwide, having written two of the first books on the subject, and touring the planet teaching it.  Among her many connections in the Reiki world was one very enthusiastic woman then residing in Maryland, by the name of Judith Hitt, also a Reiki master and registered nurse.  Eventually in 1997, my ex and I sold our property as we were planning to shift to India where Paula had already spent most of 1996/97.  Judith Hitt later morphed into Ani Gejong, and eventually was called Kunzang Dechen Chodren, by Kunzang Dorje Rinpoche. 

When visiting home from India in order to help me dissolve the house Paula connected with Judith as always over the phone, for the first time after a long interval and heard about new Reiki developments, including the emergence of so-called ‘Men-Chos’ or ‘Medicine Dharma Reiki’ as taught by Lama Drukpa Yeshe, who was recognized (or so he claimed) by the Dalai Lama as the Ninth Drukmar Rinpoche.  A framed letter on the stationary of the Dalai Lama’s office hanging on the wall in Lama Yeshe’s home in a prominent place was supposed to support the claim.  Judith had become his student in 1996 and sang his praises, of how extraordinary he was and how refreshingly different from the stiff formality of many Tibetan Lamas.  She insisted that we meet him, especially since we were planning to drive up I-5 from San Francisco, and Lama Yeshe was practically living along the way, on the California/Oregon border.

After such enthusiastic introduction naturally, meet the man and his aunt Mill, and his black castrated tomcat Maning Ngakpo, we did.  We had no choice in the matter, really.  Something was calling, a bit more forcefully than a mere curiosity that had been tweaked. 

Quite frankly, when we finally sat in Lama Yeshe’s mobile home living room on a dark November late afternoon, we didn’t know what to make of this French black-tobacco-cigarettes chain smoking and (for dinner) meat-devouring colossus (tall he was but weak on the feet as he had broken both ankles the year before).  Even more odd, he lived with his freaky aunt (no less a colossus than her nephew, albeit in width not in terms of height).  They both wove colorful anecdotes from their days in military intelligence into the conversation.  From what they projected and what we in response felt coming through both of them, they appeared absolutely authentic and congenial.  No outward ‘Rinpoche’ allures, either – just plain country folks, you know, local yokels, but more educated and sophisticated.

Anyway, throughout the 12-hour meeting, which lasted from 5pm to 5am Lama Yeshe and aunt Mill were really charming to us, and even if it had all been a ploy enacted to impress us, it had succeeded.  We were taken in.  We were impressed, especially by the fact that Paula was able to sit through a 12-hour chain-smoking session without coughing or getting nauseous.  Towards the end of the meeting Lama Yeshe even insisted on doing a White 6-Armed Mahakala Tsok together with us, so that the sale of our property may go through without obstacles.  He said that he had always liked burning the midnight oil - or practicing from dark to dawn.  The black T-shirt and jeans uniform (instead of the white yogi dress and shawl) went perfectly with this general approach and style.  

Naturally Lama Yeshe also mentioned his plans for a new 2- to 3-week intensive seminar on Medicine Dharma Reiki, to be held in late June/early to mid-July 1998.  When he talked about it he also stressed that he had invited a Nyingmapa yogi (whose name at that time was never mentioned) to give teachings and empowerments, and that this yogi, who was a fully accomplished tsalung practitioner, had already accepted the invitation.  He would certainly come. 

For some reason, the detail got me hooked.  In response, the words sort of tumbled out of my mouth, “Count me in,” I said, “I’ll be there”, at the retreat that is.  I meant it, too, although the forcefulness with which the gut response had made itself heard, sort of surprised me.  By habit, I am more cautious—except on the rare occasions when I’m not.

Paula didn’t share the same level of enthusiasm, and there were reasons for it connected with her own spiritual journey.  But she had always been (and still is) the adventurous type, so she eventually decided to come.  Besides, it would have been quite beyond her to have me live and work by her side and practicing (even teaching) some kind of Reiki that she didn’t know and hadn’t been empowered to teach herself.  For that reason alone, she would have had to join, anyway.  After all, and this is a compliment not a put-down, she was (and still is) the proverbial alpha female, especially in public almost always insisting on playing first fiddle.  Although in private she could act mellow and let go of the sometimes tiresome routine.

Seven months later we were back in Oregon, three more Reiki master friends of Paula’s from Germany and India in tow.  We were our own small group within the group. The entire group numbered probably twelve to fifteen in all, including Judith Hitt who had in the meantime taken novice vows and robes and was now called Ani Gejong Palmo.  However, we had never met Judith in person when we lived in Washington State, only over the phone.  Thus we would have to get acquainted in this retreat setting, with Judith or Ani Gejong, what difference does it make?  

Unfortunately, there were a few bumps in the road to be overcome between Paula and Ani right from the start.  In person, the two didn’t go as well together as through long distance calls.  I remember one incident during break time when Paula was sitting in my lap while part of my bum touched upon the ani’s shawl.  I guess this wasn’t the right thing to do while sitting on a novice nun’s shawl, exchanging pecks and hugging and all!  But it wasn’t meant as a sign of disrespect. It happened more due to a lack of sensibility to protocol and produced a reaction.  In a way, the incident set the tone between the two, for years to come.

Lama Dawa, the mysterious Nyingmapa Yogi mentioned in November, arrived towards the end of the three weeks, accompanied by Tim Clark and what I remember as a stunningly beautiful Tibetan woman (not his wife). The fact that Lama shared a separate trailer with her got the tongues wagging right away.  What else do I remember?  That this Lama was quite a tiny man, especially when standing next to six foot six and 250 pound Lama Yeshe, both of them leaning against opposite door posts, the first smoking Marlboros and the other either Gitanes or Gauloises.  They made quite a pair: one clad in white the other one in black.  However, they seemed to get along easy, which in any event doesn’t mean too much.  In 20 years of knowing Lama Dawa I have seen him get along easy with everyone, at least on the surface.  And when the ease was not there, well he either didn’t engage the person, or made a swift exit (the ‘exit’ from Lama Yeshe predictably was to happen in the summer of 1999).

This July of 1998, however, Lama Dawa was to share three teachings and empowerments from his lineage: Yeshe Tsogyal; Garuda/Vajrapani/Hayagriva in one; and Riwo Sangchoe.  He also gave some mirror readings.  The first two teachings and empowerments were to take place in the same location as all the other teachings.  Riwo Sangchoe was to happen somewhere else, in Portland. 

I suspect that these events, at least at the time, may have meant more to Lama than to us because for him, the future was not necessarily the same unknown territory as which it usually appears to an untrained mindstream, like mine.  He could look far, even without his famous divination mirror.  And he probably foresaw what he was getting himself into when giving these teachings.  I cannot claim to know, but there was a sense, a feeling of it.  His dedication to share Dudjom Rinpoche’s lineage in all respect and earnestness permeated the air.

When it came to practicalities, Lama Dawa initially displayed what looked like a stubborn refusal of bestowing the Yeshe Tsogyal teaching and empowerment on anyone except Ani Gejong as among all of us in the group she alone had completed the special 400.000 preliminary practices.  Lama Yeshe pleaded with him to reconsider.  Lama Dawa at first remained non-committal.  A few hours later, however, he had the whole group gather around him.  We were all standing and he stood in front of us.  He would choose his candidates himself, and he took his time doing it, leaving the group hanging in suspense for a minute or two, before saying a word.  Then he pointed to Paula and I.  Whe we had stepped towards him, he again stopped and wanted to leave it at that – or pretended that he wanted to leave it at that; hard to tell the difference, with these yogi types, sometimes.  Lama Yeshe pleaded some more. Finally Lama Dawa agreed to let in five of Lama Yeshe’s closest students including Josh, Matthew and Mari and two others whose name I have forgotten.  It goes without saying that Lama Yeshe, Mill and Tim Clark were allowed in, as well.  The Yeshe Tsogyal teaching and empowerment were finally scheduled for the following morning.

There is not much of a precise memory left of the event.  However, I believe to remember that one could palpably feel Lama’s presence, his devotion, his dedication to the welfare of those entrusting themselves in his care through this emerging bond of the empowerment in process.  Such almost religious fervor is not in contradiction to the dzogchen kind of openness in and toward all situations—the non-clinging, the spontaneity.   The proceedings felt altogether quite different, unusual, although I had tasted similar flavors during the moments when I had been one-on-one with Khamtrul Rinpoche, the Karmapa XVI and Tarthang Tulku.  These are rather unique situations.  Their special flavor derives from the blending of lightness, playfulness on one side and seriousness and commitment on the other side. It permeated the air during the Yeshe Tsogyal empowerment.  And this is really one of the characteristics of genuine vajrayana teachings and teachers, the interplay of spontaneity and age-old choreography of ritual.  With them, it seems all so easy, but it is also a matter of life and death, literally.  Anyway, a connecting happened.  In this empowerment, Lama did not hold back anything.  He connected with this new group of students and some of them remained with him for long, three to the end.  And even those who didn’t last, eventually will last also beyond the end like everyone who touched upon such natural sacredness.

The other two teaching events were a different ballgame.  From the way I felt, Lama Dawa didn’t really want to go through with one of them (the Garuda, Vajrapani & Hayagriva in one) because he might have deemed in premature and therefore made the group repeat a different mantra than the one written in the text.  Finally, he poked slight fun at the whole situation during the Riwo Sangchoe, as the hotel staff didn’t allow any open fires on their premises not even in the garden (Lama Yeshe’s right hand man had rented a hotel hall for the event).  But still he gave the Riwo Sangchoe teaching in a very lighthearted and upbeat spirit and exhibited overall a rather expansive mood, especially when all was said and (not) done.

In Portland I also received my first mirror divination from him with many to follow over the years, and the first question that I asked was, “What connects me and since when have I been connected to this lineage?”  The answer came short and simple, “Since the lifetime when you were practicing the 100-deity mandala in the Kingdom of Zahor.”  With such an alleged past unbeknownst to me thus far, no wonder, I had to persist even this time around. 

On parting, I asked Lama, if we could see him at Tim Clark’s house where he would stay in Northern California, on our way back from Washington state to the airport.  He gave us Tim’s phone number.  Later, when reconnecting with him at Tim’s I asked him if we could meet him in Kathmandu as we were living not too far from him in South India.  He gave us the Kathmandu phone number.  The other things that happened in the course of these first meetings, well may be, if they ever surface again, they would want to be shared in a separate posting.

For now, it’s enough and the rest is history, as they say. 

Please understand that I am writing on purpose in a very personal way.  I cannot compose an objective account of Acharya Dawa Chhodak Rinpoche’s work with his students in the west and in India, beginning with the events of July 1998 and coming to a conclusion (at least according to the ordinary perspective) with his passing in November 2017.  I don’t believe anyone can write such an account.  We all can probably just offer fragments, fleeting impressions—or as stated in the beginning, mirages upon mirages and phantoms upon phantoms.  Yet at least these are the type of mirages that might actually lead to a well that offers a refreshing drink. 

Another question is, “How do you catch the reflection of the moon in water?”

Do we really know the guru?  Do we really know anything? And if yes, what might that be, in essence, that we believe we know?

Parra Nights

Screams of delight

throaty & muffled

may be by a deviant bird

or two

float-jumping from leaf to leaf
as these gusts shake the peepul tree
& our hair & our world

turn wet

see-sawing on creepers
in this night

when we are lifted into the moon

drenched by timely rains

not reaching anywhere

in final conclusion

hands grasping at phantoms

shifting vapors into self-releasing mirages

never holding never denying

who can state

who can claim

to have finally reached

the shore

that is safe

on the other side

beyond heaven

 

 

A Whiff of Self-Liberation

Peaks dancing

a steady granite

zigzag jig

the sky bowing down to

to touch flower heads

on mountain slopes

given together

sky-mountain

mountain-flower

into the luminous

a butterfly spreads its wings

the air smells fresh

c Choyin Dorje/Matthias Dehne 2018

How Lama Dawa Became My Mother’s Guide

The development unfolded gradually over a five year period and it was beautiful to observe, especially when understanding it fully now by looking back, for all the love and care that it involved and expressed.  Lama Dawa never met my mother in person, but for all intents and purposes she became his student, albeit unbeknownst to her.  And, in a manner of speaking he played the part of a devotee, as it became more and more apparent how fully devoted he was to her welfare—how all these little hints and pointers of his culminated in liberating action at the time of death.  In this sense, any true teacher becomes a devotee, devoted to his or her dharma friends’ welfare, and unreservedly so.

Much of what transpired between Lama and my mother happened through mirror divinations, which is also how it got started.  The year was 1999, the month of December to be exact.  I had arrived a month earlier, with the intention to stay into April 2000 because of the full cycle of bKa-Ma transmissions and empowerments to be given at a Nyingma monastery in Tinchuli beginning after Losar 2000.  Lama had insisted that I take part, overriding my objection that I would anyway be able to practice only a fraction of what was to be given.  This being a fact my protestation was, why bother at all?  He didn’t accept this, replying that I needed the entire lineage and not just bits and pieces.  When he spoke like this with the voice of absolute guru authority, ‘no’ was never an option.

About a month after my arrival, on the occasion of my weekly phone call to Germany I heard from my mother that she had been diagnosed with more cancer, this time in the other breast and that she would have to undergo surgery the coming Monday in the early morning hours.  I believe I made the call on a Friday.  My mother didn’t request me to come, but it was obvious that as her sole close relation alive (after all she was already 85 years old at the time), I would need to go. 

That same afternoon I went to see Lama Dawa and told him all about it.  His reaction was, “We have to consult the mirror immediately.”  Which he did.  But he ignored my readiness to go and book a flight, immediately.  Instead, he was totally focused on arranging whatever needed to be done.  At that time he was at home in the old Kathmandu house by himself, with only his daughter Rigzin, as he had sent the khandros Kalsang & Kunzang together on a pilgrimage to India.  Economical as ever with words in important matters he stated,  “Two pujas have to be done tomorrow, and Lama Yedrol will do them for your mom and then there is something else that only I can do, and I will do it in the night.”  This was about all of the information that he volunteered.  He called Lama Yedrol on the phone and then sent me over to his place to make the required offering. 

In addition Lama instructed me not to call Germany on Saturday, but only to get in touch with my mother in the hospital on Sunday after the last pre-operation tests and check-ups.  I didn’t understand why, but I nevertheless did as I had been told. 

Reaching the woman at the reception desk, I asked for my mother.  She took a while to find the room number, but then replied, “Your mother has been discharged an hour ago.  You can probably reach her at home by now.”  I made the call, and yes, my mother was in her apartment.  Excited even agitated as she obviously was she was almost tripping over her own words, “Would you believe it, son, they checked my breast again, and there was absolutely no lump.  They found this quite strange because only a week ago there had been one, and not too small.  And they had the records to prove it.  They then murmured something about an unbelievable spontaneous remission and let me go.”  Well, may be the remission hadn’t been just spontaneous after all.  May be it had to do with some unknown skillful intervention.  We will never know.  Anyhow, I wouldn’t have to fly to Germany. 

Every year after this happened, whenever I visited Lama in Kathmandu, he did something for my mother.  And mostly he initiated the action himself.   I remember one time, when she had confessed to me that she was becoming increasingly depressed because several of her friends had passed.  While listening to me telling him, Lama nodded, did another divination without my even asking for it and then suggesting, “Now that she has lost some of her friends, she needs Tara as a friend.  I will send Tara to her myself.”  Which, again, he did!

Come to think of it, many of the interventions for her sake he insisted on doing himself, rather than commissioning another Lama.  Whenever I called her after ‘Tara had been sent’, the depressed undertone in my mother’s voice was gone.  I believe this was in 2002.  It took me a while to discern it because it was quite subtle, but whenever Lama spoke about my mother, his voice sounded even more loving than usual.  Which, of course cannot be read as a claim to exclusivity.  Whenever Lama was lovingly focused on someone that person automatically felt special.  In this sense, all the people whom Lama Dawa ever fully focused on, for that moment of his focusing, became the same kind of ‘special’.

In 2003 I could not see Lama Dawa because he did not return to Kathmandu for over an entire year, but I was able to call him a few times, either from India or Germany.  On one of these occasions he stated out of the blue, “Choyin Dorje, you cannot let your mother die in Germany.  It is absolutely necessary that she dies in India, in your house.  I will help you to get her there.  First I will send you a small Guru Rinpoche picture that you have to place somewhere in the room where she spends most of her time.”  I interjected that knowing her I was quite certain she would throw the picture into the waste bin.  He remained unfazed, “She won’t notice it.  But it has to be near her.”  Later that same year when back on another visit in Germany, sure enough I received an envelope with a small Guru Rinpoche image from and blessed by Lama in the US and placed it on the China cabinet next to the TV set.  As Lama had predicted, my mother didn’t comment which means she hadn’t noticed, as otherwise comments would have been made, and neither too few nor too pleasant!  My mother strongly disapproved of anything religious that wasn’t Lutheran, and she especially detested my involvement with these eastern lama or guru types.

I met Lama again in Kathmandu, shortly after Losar in 2004.  He reiterated his previous command (yes, and a command it had been, no doubt) to get my mom to India, soon.   I had some reservations doubts and voiced them, like my mom being blessed with the mindset of a staunch white supremacist and therefore she would never move to a country full of colored people. Lama didn’t honor this with an answer.  “Bring her to India.” But he said it very softly, with a deeply half pacifying and half seductive voice, not harshly.  This time he elaborated further.  “Once she is with you in India, she will pass on very soon.  She cannot die in Germany.  She has to die in India.  It is your duty to make it happen.”

I didn’t deliberate further.  I finally took Lama’s word for it.  When back in South India after my return from Nepal I called her up and said, “Listen mom, we are going to move to Goa in the fall or early winter where we will rent a bigger house.  I would like you to come and live with us.”  I had expected a resounding rejection, but was surprised to hear something like, “That would be lovely.  Sure I will come.”  I couldn’t believe what I just heard, but of course I did. 

Despite of all of Lama’s hints my mother’s positive answer t the invitation had still taken me by surprise, and the fact that it did, illustrated unfortunately, how little I had grasped of who Lama Dawa really was!

The vastness of his view that was all-knowing, whenever he wanted it to be! 

Past & future did not exist for him in these instances; although I should probably write DO NOT exist for him even now, as now he is omnipresent.

(to be concluded)