“First, skillfully examine a guru.
In the middle
skillfully rely upon a guru.
Last, skillfully
emulate his realization and action.”
-Paltrul
Rinpoche
Lama Dawa told this story to Rinchen during his last long
visit when he stayed with us for three months in 2016.
In it he shared that at some time at a later stage in his
life it must have been in the 1990s, he fell gravely ill. Afterwards he decided to do Troma
practice outside in the wilderness and Khandro Kalsang accompanied him in order
to serve him during the day, while he was practicing in solitary retreat in the
night. I don’t remember exactly
where, and he may not have mentioned the location at all. The location isn’t the main focus of
the story anyways, the events that took place, are.
“I practiced usually
throughout the night and had chosen a spot near a river. There were many huge boulders between
the river and the cliff in the back.
Most were unsuitable as practice support. However, towards the back at the base of the cliff there was
one almost perfectly flat large rock, which I chose as my seat. I went there regularly.”
“One night, it must
have been the one before the new moon, as I was sitting fully absorbed in one
pointed concentration. It was
pitch black. I could not see a
thing, not even my hands in front of my eyes. But some time in the middle of the night, I had the sense
that something had shifted. The
air felt different, there was more of a breeze, and I felt as if the twig of a
dried out bush was slightly touching the back of my neck. But I knew that where I sat there was
no bush behind me. I found this
curious and was wondering what might have happened. When I looked up in the morning, I saw some bush protruding
nested just under the edge of the cliff, fairly high up, probably about 18 to
twenty feet above ground. But
then, on the other hand, Troma practice has been known to play tricks on practitioners’
minds.”
“I returned the
following night and resumed my practice, with the same one pointed focus. Toward the middle of the night, the
same thing happened. I again felt
the breeze and some twig slightly touching the back of my neck. I decided to establish without room for
doubt what was happening and untied one of the strings attached to my
damaru. This I attached to the
twig that I my hands could reach.
Then I concentrated on practicing again, until daybreak.”
“When I looked up in
the morning, I could clearly see the string from my damaru tied to a twig from
the same bush that I had noticed the day before, meaning: the rock on which I had been sitting
all these nights had floated up about twenty feet, with me on top. It was a good sign.”
Everyone who knew him remembers how humble Lama Dawa acted
and behaved almost all of the time. He hardly ever flaunted his yogic
achievements. But Lama’s humility
was never false or fake, a mask merely put on in order to appear the perfectly
humble ‘guru’, always smiling and accommodating. At times he could be and also act not so humble at all. And when he did it was in order to
illustrate the results of successful practice. When appropriate, he never shied
away from displaying the vajra pride befitting his status of a fully
accomplished tsalung and dzogchen master.
My guess is that he told the story to Rinchen in order to
imprint in her mind the importance of gaining siddhi, that is worldly siddhi
for people to see, or touch, or experience. He himself had mastered each and every one of the 21 worldly
siddhis mentioned in the Yeshe Tsogyal dakini practice cycle. He always stressed how much he wanted
all of his dharma friends (he didn’t much like and hardly used the word
‘student’) to accomplish at least one of these siddhis.
This is our real work.
In the guru’s eyes that are still seeing us even though the lama’s body
has dissolved, this is more important than many of the things we might deem
important, ourselves. The siddhis
of the present generation of practitioners can instill confidence in practicing
in the next generation of practitioners.
Intellectualizing and philosophizing and meditating nicely and
peacefully, these overvalued qualities may not be enough. They will not suffice to keep the
teachings alive.
Lama Dawa told me that story in March 1991 when we were traveling through Manali. We were on the bank of the Beas River and I think he said we were near the place he had done a Troma Chod retreat near there.
ReplyDeleteKhakyab Dorje Tim
Thanks Tim, great to hear from you.
Delete