“If we practice dharma
depending on ordinary substance lineage power, we cannot have deep spiritual
power. The source of visible power
is always invisible power… If we cannot connect visible substance power with
invisible substanceless source, then it is quickly exhausted. This is especially true today, when
easterners and westerners are making dharma factories, trying to bargain with
substance lineage for power and gain.
-THINLEY
NORBU
Like it appeared to be his habit regarding so many ‘future’ developments,
Lama Dawa introduced his idea of visiting the Buddhist caves in Ajanta already
in September 2009, way before it actually happened. He informed me from Kathmandu over the phone, “You and I have to go to Ajanta together,
find out about flights and hotels.”
Then he repeated, “You and I will
really have to go there together in this lifetime.” He sounded absolutely determined. So I did the needful research, only to
hear in another phone call a few days later something like, “Not this year, I am not feeling well and the
place is too hot at this time of the year anyways.”
Many months passed and nothing was ever mentioned again,
until Lama stayed at our house in Goa for eight weeks, late December 2012 to
late February 2013. We had picked
him and Khandro Kalsang up in Nepal and flown together down to South
India. When he had reached our
home close to midnight on December 26th, despite his weak hip joints
that usually gave him much pain, especially when climbing and descending stairs,
he rushed up the one flight of stairs, immediately claimed the large bed in our
bedroom as his, almost jumped into perfect lotus seat on top of it and stated,
“You and I have to go to Ajanta together
when we are done here.” And
his entire face lit up beaming with delight.
He was like that.
Important things were said exactly when the moment had come to say
them. After a close to 15-hour
journey from door to door, the last thing I would have thought about would be
another trip. But Lama, at least
in his dealings with me, always disclosed his purpose and intention right at
the start of any venture. He never
said more than what needed to be said, but at least that much he shared. So, the purpose of the 2-month respite
in Goa had now been officially declared right at the outset: to get well, and
then to visit Ajanta.
The mood for the trip built up over the weeks while Rinpoche
regained physical strength.
Despite of all his displays of humbleness and ordinariness and the
almost complete concealing of his light and power, Lama was anything but an
ordinary man, not even an ordinary yogi hung up on any concept of being
one. Many an evening he sat with
us on the terrace and shared stories, about his yogic family lineage (as a
result he also introduced us to his family lineage protector practice). But most extensively he talked about the
glorious siddha past of India. He
spoke so much about it, really revealing a lot about ancient India that is not
in the texts (or if it is there, then concealed in twilight language). It truly was amazing.
I was such a fool not to record these fairly regular evening
talks, which usually lasted for a little over an hour. I should have put the smart phone on the
coffee table and press the ‘record’ button. But it didn’t even occur to me that I should. Rinchen and I were just sitting with
him and Kalsang mesmerized by his talk, forgetting everything else. It was as if he was sensitizing us to
something important, of which we couldn’t fathom exactly what it was, at least
not on the level of the ordinary waking consciousness. Nonetheless and in another way,
sensitized we were, indeed. Even
though he didn’t give any formal teachings (I actually had requested him not
to, and to instead focus on his health), while with us during these weeks he
shared more – more of the tendrel that personally connected us, more of his
vast storehouse of merit going back to times immemorial, more of his ancient
roots, the fertile soil of the teachings here in the land where the Buddha
appeared in this world – than he did ever before or would do ever after.
By Losar in the beginning of February his whole body was
literally sparkling, bursting with
energy.
And to all in our small dharma group who attended the
celebration, the party in the evening will remain etched in their
mindstream.
Neill played the
guitar and sang Hindi songs that Lama requested and then Lama himself sang
Hindi movie songs and serenaded the ladies like they probably hadn’t been
serenaded before.
Rarely have I
seen him so happy (but then of course, I haven’t seen him so much in the course
of an entire lifetime… it’s all relative, right).
A day before the flight to Bombay and Aurangabad (the
nearest airport to Ajanta) he called me to the room and explained, “In case I will have a seizure in a public
place, you will have to press certain points on my head. If you do, it will be over very quickly.” Then, with his right hand he guided both
my hands successively to the points on his skull that he wanted pressed, three
times and admonished me not to forget.
We got from Goa to Bombay airport for an almost four hour
layover (the connecting flight was late).
Once we had arrived in the transit hall, he looked for the bar and
demanded wine – and lots of it. He
didn’t mind that it was of shabby quality and way overpriced (something like 12
dollars a small glass). He
talked loud and dirty sex and other obscenities, which made people around us
uncomfortable. They began staring
in our direction, but this didn’t faze him in the least.
He was on a roll, and mind you, all of this display was a
teaching however of a kind that is too much to handle for most, especially when
delivered in the plain view of a disapproving public. But we were going to Ajanta, right! And not as ordinary sightseers, but in
order to make an energy connection in this present bodymind – with our voices,
our flesh and bones – linking what is conceptualized as ‘past’ through the (also
conceptualized) ‘present moment’ with what is conceptualized as ‘future’ (which
of course, when misunderstood gives birth to a million conceptualizations
more). He probably tried to make
abundantly clear that we NOT regard ourselves as ordinary tourists, but as yogis
and yoginis on a pilgrimage.
How
much he tried in the last twenty years of his life to lift people out of the
prison of conventionality, and how little and infrequently people actually
understood what he was trying to do!
Anyway, to all appearances that is, to crown it all he also
tried to kiss one of the ladies in our small group fully on the mouth with what
looked like a perfect tongue kiss in the making, in front of everyone. However, he stopped himself in the middle when
it became obvious that the person in question could not understand the
underlying intention, so different from the usually accepted meaning of the
gesture. He always tried everything to break concepts, but never forced the issue when a certain level of resistance was encountered. When our flight was
finally called, everyone except him was happy that the spectacle was over, at
least this part of it.
Then, while in the bus from the gate to the plane Lama had
himself a seizure. Well, he had
already announced to me in Goa that he would, or at least prepared me for
it. At that moment, he and I were
separated from the rest of the group.
They had taken seats, whereas we were on the rear platform of the bus,
he sitting in his wheelchair, I standing next to him.
This being Bombay airport and not a western airport, the bus
was naturally overcrowded. If you
have travelled in India you know what level of overcrowding I am talking
about. When the seizure set in, I
was stunned, absolutely taken by surprise. I am sure this kind of seizure always had been very painful
and uncomfortable for Lama to experience, but at least in this case, from the
outside it almost looked serene.
Yes, there were convulsions, the body shook, the eyeballs rolled, but
through my eyes it appeared like an unfolding celebration in slow motion. It actually looked beautiful, like some
tremendous benevolent energy release.
Lama had to wake me from my stupor, by shouting, “Press the points.” I
did. Whereupon the seizure almost
immediately stopped, as he had said in Goa, that it would.
Naturally, the people around us were shocked and tried to
move away from us as far as possible, even more so those who had witnessed
Lama’s raucous behavior in the bar.
When we descended from the bus one of the staff who had also been on the
rear platform walked up to us and asked, “Can
this gentleman fly in this condition?” Lama assured him that he could, and in order to make his
point, got up from his wheelchair and walked all the way from the front stair
to the stair at the rear entrance, as wheelchair passengers are always supposed
to sit in the last row, near the restrooms. In India, they let such things, like Lama’s (for a lack of a
better word) eccentricities gracefully go. In the US he would probably have stayed grounded and forced
to accept hospital care, like it or not.
We arrived in Aurangabad very late. Some more people joined us there the
next day, to make it a group of eight instead of five.
The Ajanta caves are a 2- to 3- hour taxi ride away from
Aurangabad. We went there a day
later, to find that much had changed since Lama’s first visit in the early
1970s. For example, no vehicles
were allowed to approach the entrance except for an official bus that ferried
visitors from the nearby parking lot to the site. But the bus stop was a more than a kilometer walk away from
the parking lot. Lama couldn’t
walk that far. So we asked one of
the small fast food stalls nearby if we could borrow a chair, on which we
carried Lama to the bus stop. He
was so incredibly light that day, easy to carry, even more so as there were
three men so that one could take a break in between to catch his breath. We asked the person at the bus stop to
safeguard the chair for us for our return to the car.
But Lama wouldn’t be Lama if he didn’t surprise us the next
day when we visited the Ellora caves, where we were confronted with a similar
situation and tried to solve it the same way by carrying Lama on a chair. It was impossible. That next day Lama was not feather
light any longer but as heavy as 1000 pounds of lead. We couldn’t even lift the chair with Lama on it let alone
carry him along. We had to find a
wheelchair. He refrained from
commenting. To him nothing had
changed.
These are little details, easy to overlook. But again, these are teachings. Don’t take anything regarding a true
(not a sham) Lama for granted. True
lamas can behave raucously with elegance – and not really mean it, and neither
would they care in the least. They
can have an epileptic seizure and let the activation of pressure points stop
the same seizure within a second.
They can be, without changing anything in terms of outside appearance
like size or height, a mere 25 Kgs light or a 1000 pounds heavy. They can do and be all kinds of things,
because they are never stuck in appearance, and never separate from
dharmakaya. What a blessing to be
with such a Lama, such a genuine guru – and yet experience his indirect hints
at his powers in a rather matter-of-fact way: not going gaga over them, and not
becoming overly holy or sanctimonious.
At the actual entrance we found some porters who carried him
on a sedan chair. At the end of
their two hours of carrying they were rewarded with a huge tip. When in India, almost as a rule, Lama
liked to tip the lowly lavishly – except for the few he saw were
non-deserving. Hard to tell how he
determined such matters. However,
it was clear that the withholding of a tip was never accidental, but also not
solely due to bad service rendered.
There were other aspects that he saw, invisible to ordinary vision.
Reaching the caves finally, Lama was deeply moved. He had a strong past connection with
the place; so much was obvious for one with eyes to see. It seemed to feel like a homecoming for
him. He gave explanations
about some of the artwork quite different from what can be read in the
guidebook. But mostly he was
happy, and treated all of us with extra warmth and love, for example by holding
hands while sitting in silence for a short while, at the entrance or inside of
a cave.
At one point when we had just come out one particular cave,
I don’t recall which one he grabbed me by one hand, pulled me forcefully close
to him, while whispering, “This is the
right place and moment! It has to be done now!” With his he lifted his right arm to the sky the hand in the
threatening gesture, banning evil obstructing and interrupting forces. Then he laughed and pushed me away. In some ways I felt a bit bewildered,
in another sense an inner knowing only commented, “Of course.” What ever
he does in such moments is of significance… as long as the ego doesn’t blow it
by blowing itself out of proportion.
Then it becomes insignificant after the fact.
Inside the cave with the large stupa, one of the most famous
and most photographed caves, at the moment when we visited filled with a large
group of Indian tourists, Lama started to chant the refuge formula in Sanskrit,
very slowly and deep from the belly.
The whole place was reverberating with his voice, and not only his voice
but with the joy of genuine devotion to the dharma. Some very old bond was being renewed.
Afterwards many of the strangers came to Lama, tried to
touch his feet and asked for his blessings. It did not matter to them that they did not know him. It did not matter that he wasn’t
wearing any visible signs pointing to one kind or another of religious
affiliation, like a robe. (In
India, Lama preferred to move around in civvies & incognito, always, never
in robes.) However, they had
recognized something deeply embedded in their own mindstream with the help of a
certain inborn openness to finer energies that most Indians still possess even
under the veneer of modernity, and that is the quality of devotion. Their inborn affinity to feelings and
acts of devotion immediately reacted to Lamas expression of his genuine
devotion to the dharma.
All of this was beautiful to witness. We left the caves fully energized and
joyfully. Lama was indeed very
satisfied with the trip.
