Green blades of grass are popping up from the ground.
Last night a deep discussion on death and impermanence in class with Greg — Fearlessness in Everyday life. Afterwards, with Heather, connecting in presence, communicating, acknowledging a disconnect in… view, personality, life-approach, interests. Acknowledging the possibility of splitting as well as the possibility of not. Impermanence is not theoretical here. None of the teachings are. This whole place is a living, breathing, dharma lesson. Teachings in 3D. Maybe 4D. I can taste the dharma here. It rubs my shoulders and smacks me on the head. Walking away from her, I felt relief — in imagining passing, freedom. Now… What is freedom? Solitude — free of mirrors? Free to only dive into dharma? What is dharma? Sitting on a cushion and reading books? I know that my work here, my whole life here, is the path of dharma. I may be here for ten years. This morning in meditation, I was contemplating impermanence. I recalled my brother singing “All Things Must Pass” to our dad while he was dying of cancer. There seems to be enough room — in my life, heart, mind — to let that happen. Clinging is clear to see here, and its futility. Beauty in arising, beauty in dwelling, beauty in passing. And, who knows? But living with the reality of impermanence…
– April 10, 2014
Travis Newbill is a curious dude on the path of artistry, meditation, and social engagement who is very glad to be residing at Shambhala Mountain Center. His roles within the organization include Marketing Associate and Head Dekyong–a position of leadership within the community.
The founder of Shambhala Publications, Sam Bercholz, described Trungpa Rinpoche as “not just another great Buddhist teacher. He was Padmasambhava, Guru Rinpoche, for the West.” And on September 13–14 at the Great Stupa of Dharmakaya the final reading of his The Profound Treasury of the Ocean of Dharma will occur.
In keeping with the tradition of oral transmission of important texts like The Profound Treasury, a reading tour has introduced sections of the text to the public at a variety of places like the Rubin Museum in New York City, the Harvard Divinity School, and the Halifax Shambhala Center.
Between 1973 and 1986, Chogyam Trungpa Rinpoche conducted a series of annual study and practice intensives, called “Vajradhatu Seminaries.” The talks were organized around the three yanas, or major stages, of the Buddhist path: hinayana, mahayana, and vajrayana. It was a landmark moment in a practitioner’s life to be accepted to seminary and even moreso to be able to hear the vajrayana teachings in particular. In these programs he presented heart teachings to his most senior students and transcripts were restricted at Rinpoche’s insistance. However, beginning just a few years after the seminaries started, he began talking about compiling this material and editing it for a general audience. Now, forty years after the first Vajradhatu Seminary took place, Acharya Emeritus Judy Lief has completed the work of compiling and editing the seminary material into three volumes totaling more than 2,000 pages. With the publication of The Profound Treasury, for the first time, these teachings have become publicly available.
Rinpoche himself talked about looking at traditional literary arrangements of such teachings, referring to shila, samadhi and prajna, for example, as organizing principles for some material. But reviews of The Profound Treasury of the Ocean of Dharma have been full of praise for Judy Lief’s editorial acumen. So please join Acharya Emeritus Judy Lief at the Stupa built in honor of Chogyam Trungpa Rinpoche for the resounding, or recitation, of the final chapters of The Profound Treasury of the Ocean of Dharma. This program is open to all and includes a Friday night talk, group meditation practice, listening and reciting, and discussion.
by Keith Kachtick In Letters to a Young Poet, Rainer Maria Rilke makes clear that a loving, romantic relationship is the practice for which all other mindfulness practices are the groundwork. “Love is high inducement for the individual to ripen, to become world for himself for another’s sake.” The ancient Tibetan tantric practice of Yab-Yum recognizes that romantic coupling is as an opportunity for profound spiritual awakening, a practice that invites us—deeply challenges us—to love our way to enlightenment.
Traditionally, in Buddhist thangkas and sculptures depicting Yab-Yum, the confluence of “masculine” compassion and “feminine” wisdom is presented metaphorically in the sexual union of a male deity, seated in Padmasana (lotus pose), with his female consort facing him on his lap. The symbolism is two-fold: Yab-Yum (literally “father-mother” in Tibetan) implies a mystical union within our own individual nature—the two Dharma wings that lift each of us to buddhahood; united, the two awakened beings (regardless of gender) then give birth to a romantic communion embodying the blissful, non-dual state of enlightenment.
Much easier said than done, of course. But for anyone in a committed relationship, the Yab-Yum ideal of unconditional love—borne out of opening our hearts and fine-tuning our communication skills, as well as deepening our understanding of our partner’s needs and desires—is an opportunity and wonderful challenge to recognize and celebrate the highest in ourselves and in each other.
Ultimately, it’s all about soulful harmonizing. “We know little, but that we must hold to what is difficult is a certainty that will not forsake us,” Rilke reminds us. “It is good to be solitary, for solitude is difficult. That something is difficult must be a reason the more for us to do it. To love is good, too: love being difficult. For one human being to love another: that is perhaps the most difficult of all our tasks, the ultimate, the last test and proof, the work for which all other work is but preparation. This more human love resembles that which we have prepared for with struggle and toil all our lives: a love that consists in this, that two solitudes protect and border and salute one another.”
We like to think of ourselves as living in independent time, separate from each other and from cosmic influences. But that is just it. We “think” and create mind play for our thoughts. In a way our minds are like the dominant child within us, the one that steps forward and likes to take over but is not always the most sensitive or intuitive. While our bodies are more like the quiet child within us, the kind that needs patience and is worth the wait.
That is why Lîla Yoga™ is such a powerful harmonizing tool. It is both meditation in motion and philosophy in motion. Through our asana practice we learn to quiet the mind and allow the truths within our body to lead us to a more revealed state of awareness. From this state of being, our true Self is more easily exposed. This process is called Dhyana (meditation) and Samadhi (absorption). It takes great discipline and consistent practice to calm the mind into a tranquil state of stillness for Dhyana. So why bother?
This life offers us the opportunity to learn, to understand who we are, how we function and react. It gives us an opportunity to reflect on the quality of our time spent. By practicing Dhyana we cleanse our active minds and allow the truths within our heart to shine. The more often we visit this exposed state of Self, the easier it is to access and the more it aids our perspectives in our daily activities.
I, like all of us, dwell in the creative manifestations of the material world, known in yoga by many names: shakti, prakriti and maya. I am deeply involved in this life; happily and knowingly interacting with the illusions of duality. I also know that no matter what cerebral activity I am involved in, I have tasted a deeper unwavering place that continues to intrigue me. My body is not the answer but the rhythmic cycles of my body are connected to larger forces (the tides, the pull of the moon, the sun) and provide me with a sounding board in which I can begin my journey into Dahyana and if I’m lucky, into Samadhi. My plans for this evening are to lie down in the open sky and watch, feel, join, meditate, absorb–will return soon, rested and ready.
“I met Rinpoche, Chogyam Trungpa, on a street corner in New York with my father, by accident.”
From June 3rd, 1926 to April 5th, 1997 Allen Ginsberg (AKA Lion of Dharma, AKA Heart of Peace, AKA Carlo Marx in Jack Kerouac’s On the Road) roamed the earth, taking inspiration from every facet of life and giving it right back to those who would have it. One of the most controversial public figures of his times, among the most outrageous of poets, Allen Ginsberg was also a friend, lover, photographer, peace activist, king of May, and meditation practitioner in the Vajrayana tradition. At Shambhala Mountain Center, where Ginsberg’s teacher, friend, and guru Trungpa Rinpoche is buried in the Great Stupa of Dharmakaya, one third of Allen Ginsberg’s earthy remains are interned in a polished granite memorial in the shape of a lion, backlit by the Tibetan letter for “Ah”, the shortest form of the perfection of wisdom, and just a short distance from the remains of his life partner, Peter Orlovsky. Visitors may visit this site with a steep climb near the Stupa.
Shambhala Mountain Center staffer and graduate of Naropa University’s Jack Kerouac School of Disembodied Poetics Jennifer Lane shares a memory of Allen Ginsberg in 1995 when he was being honored at Naropa and reflecting on his life’s endeavors. The video tells the whole story.