His Holiness Orgyan Kusum Lingpa, a preeminent Dzogchen, or Great Perfection, teacher and one of the great tertons, or treasure revealers, of our time, came to the United States for the first time this spring.
His tour, which included visits to Boston, New York and Colorado as well as the West Coast, was co-sponsored by Chagdud Gonpa and Yeshe Nyingpo. He gave empowerments and taught extensively from his innumerable treasures, traveling with a scribe by his side who took down his mind treasures as he revealed them, round the clock.
Of his capacity as a terton, His Holiness has said, "Much earlier in my life, I made a pilgrimage to Samye Ling, Padmasambhava's original monastery. There, .... I spontaneously saw all my past and future lives. I recalled all the teachings which I had received directly from Guru Rinpoche when I was his disciple, and I saw all the hardships and difficulties of the times in which I am now living. This made it possible for me to reveal those teachings which have remained hidden in this time of intense suffering."
The visit of His Holiness to Los Angeles coincided with a relatively minor earthquake, precipitating a series of Vajrakilaya dreams. Thisl ed him to establish Orgyan Khakyod Ling, a Vajrakilaya retreat center in the Los Angeles area, to help avert a catastrophic earthquake and other natural calamities in this country arising from the upheaval of the five elements, such as droughts, fires, and storms. The Vajrakilaya practice is very powerful for overcoming obstacles and perilous circumstances.
Everywhere His Holiness traveled, he benefited beings, seen and unseen, in profound and personal ways, as illustrated by the following account of James Martin, a full-time volunteer at Rigdzin Ling.
"You'd better hurry," said Jane Tromge, Rinpoche's wife. "You don't know what the terton will do." This I knew to be true. Although I had told people on the phone that the ceremony would begin at 1:30, I knew from my experience at Rigdzin Ling not to rely on anything as ordinary as schedules and things in print. The terton Kusum Lingpa, now heading south from Oregon, had scheduled this event, a smoke offering to the local godsat Mt. Shasta.
Khanpo Gyurmed Tinly and I arrived in Shasta City by 11:30 and sped up the mountain as far as the road would go. "We're early,"I said. "That's good," the Khanpo responded. Only a handful of skiers, hikers, strollers and dogs had already arrived. That gave us time to explore, the Khanpo in leather loafers and me in my Birkenstocks, trudging through the snow. He had brought a bag of tsampa (roasted barley flour) to make his own smoke offering, and we climbed a ridge, where we built a fire on a rock above the snow. He had me fetch leaves and branches for him, while he chanted and made an offering to beings I could not see but appreciated all the more. It was a full hour before he gestured that we had done enough, and we watched silently as the smoke dwindled into ashes.
We descended to the parking area, already 1:30. The camera crew was setting up and members of our Oregon sangha were gathering. So I was surprised when the Khanpo came to me and said we should go have lunch, twenty minutes away in Shasta City. I looked at my watch, but the Khanpo wasn't worried, "He's not coming." We had a good meal, and the Khanpo, a second pot of tea. Finally, at 3:00, we headed up again, encountering a sangha member who led us to a house where the terton was having lunch. A cup of tea later and with great commotion, we were all out the door, up the mountain, as far as the road would go. I went first, waving a wand of poorly lit incense. A train of lamas and enthusiasts followed my Birkenstocks into the knee-deep snow.
The gods and protectors inhabiting this power spot called Shasta must have been well pleased, as the smoke billowed in a steady white cone curling down the mountain, enshrouding the terton, several lamas, sangha members, and the skiers, hikers, strollers and dogs, all brought together for that occasion. I never know much of what's going on, but I understood now that somehow the meaning of the ceremony twisted around my own karmic unraveling, revealing my own mind. And that day my mind was a little more luminous, a little less bound.
It was later in the evening at the empowerment in town that we learned of the day's significance. In the 1940s, before the Chinese invasion, the terton noticed that several of the Tibetan local protectors had departed. He didn't know where they had gone until now. When the terton was flying from San Francisco to Portland at the beginning of his tour, the clouds opened, revealing the summit of Mt. Shasta. He recognized the spirits inhabiting that spot to be the same protectors that had left Tibet. They had preceded the spread of dharma to this country, and now offer protection to the young dharma centers and practitioners here, particularly those centers closest to Mt. Shasta, Yeshe Nyingpo on the Oregon border and Rigdzin Ling in northern California. They have an obligation to ensure that the dharma will flourish and to protect those centers and practitioners from the degenerating forces of these times as long as the practitioners maintain their practice and commitments.
The terton was not the first to recognize a special presence on Mt. Shasta. And to the crowd of mostly locals who overflowed the hall that evening it was no surprise that a high lama from Tibet recognized a special quality there. But I am impressed not only by the profundity of the blessing, but also by its implications. The dharma flourished for a millennium in the sanctuary of Tibet. In our lifetime, however, its monasteries have been toppled and relics auctioned off. We are reminded that throughout the course of human history living spiritual traditions have become historical debris. Those of us who have received empowerments have a commitment to uphold these living lineages as sponsors, workers and practitioners. What of everything handed to us now will still exist and be passed on in a thousand years? Will mind pour into mind, or will only empty words in books remain? Ours is a tremendous task, a great responsibility. But it is reassuring to know that some of the same spirits that protected Tibet for the past thousand years protect us here now. May the tradition of Guru Padmasambhava flourish!
His Holiness Orgyan Kusum Lingpa, a preeminent Dzogchen, or Great Perfection, teacher and one of the great tertons, or treasure revealers, of our time, came to the United States for the first time this spring.
His tour, which included visits to Boston, New York and Colorado as well as the West Coast, was co-sponsored by Chagdud Gonpa and Yeshe Nyingpo. He gave empowerments and taught extensively from his innumerable treasures, traveling with a scribe by his side who took down his mind treasures as he revealed them, round the clock.
Of his capacity as a terton, His Holiness has said, "Much earlier in my life, I made a pilgrimage to Samye Ling, Padmasambhava's original monastery. There, .... I spontaneously saw all my past and future lives. I recalled all the teachings which I had received directly from Guru Rinpoche when I was his disciple, and I saw all the hardships and difficulties of the times in which I am now living. This made it possible for me to reveal those teachings which have remained hidden in this time of intense suffering."
The visit of His Holiness to Los Angeles coincided with a relatively minor earthquake, precipitating a series of Vajrakilaya dreams. Thisl ed him to establish Orgyan Khakyod Ling, a Vajrakilaya retreat center in the Los Angeles area, to help avert a catastrophic earthquake and other natural calamities in this country arising from the upheaval of the five elements, such as droughts, fires, and storms. The Vajrakilaya practice is very powerful for overcoming obstacles and perilous circumstances.
Everywhere His Holiness traveled, he benefited beings, seen and unseen, in profound and personal ways, as illustrated by the following account of James Martin, a full-time volunteer at Rigdzin Ling.
"You'd better hurry," said Jane Tromge, Rinpoche's wife. "You don't know what the terton will do." This I knew to be true. Although I had told people on the phone that the ceremony would begin at 1:30, I knew from my experience at Rigdzin Ling not to rely on anything as ordinary as schedules and things in print. The terton Kusum Lingpa, now heading south from Oregon, had scheduled this event, a smoke offering to the local godsat Mt. Shasta.
Khanpo Gyurmed Tinly and I arrived in Shasta City by 11:30 and sped up the mountain as far as the road would go. "We're early,"I said. "That's good," the Khanpo responded. Only a handful of skiers, hikers, strollers and dogs had already arrived. That gave us time to explore, the Khanpo in leather loafers and me in my Birkenstocks, trudging through the snow. He had brought a bag of tsampa (roasted barley flour) to make his own smoke offering, and we climbed a ridge, where we built a fire on a rock above the snow. He had me fetch leaves and branches for him, while he chanted and made an offering to beings I could not see but appreciated all the more. It was a full hour before he gestured that we had done enough, and we watched silently as the smoke dwindled into ashes.
We descended to the parking area, already 1:30. The camera crew was setting up and members of our Oregon sangha were gathering. So I was surprised when the Khanpo came to me and said we should go have lunch, twenty minutes away in Shasta City. I looked at my watch, but the Khanpo wasn't worried, "He's not coming." We had a good meal, and the Khanpo, a second pot of tea. Finally, at 3:00, we headed up again, encountering a sangha member who led us to a house where the terton was having lunch. A cup of tea later and with great commotion, we were all out the door, up the mountain, as far as the road would go. I went first, waving a wand of poorly lit incense. A train of lamas and enthusiasts followed my Birkenstocks into the knee-deep snow.
The gods and protectors inhabiting this power spot called Shasta must have been well pleased, as the smoke billowed in a steady white cone curling down the mountain, enshrouding the terton, several lamas, sangha members, and the skiers, hikers, strollers and dogs, all brought together for that occasion. I never know much of what's going on, but I understood now that somehow the meaning of the ceremony twisted around my own karmic unraveling, revealing my own mind. And that day my mind was a little more luminous, a little less bound.
It was later in the evening at the empowerment in town that we learned of the day's significance. In the 1940s, before the Chinese invasion, the terton noticed that several of the Tibetan local protectors had departed. He didn't know where they had gone until now. When the terton was flying from San Francisco to Portland at the beginning of his tour, the clouds opened, revealing the summit of Mt. Shasta. He recognized the spirits inhabiting that spot to be the same protectors that had left Tibet. They had preceded the spread of dharma to this country, and now offer protection to the young dharma centers and practitioners here, particularly those centers closest to Mt. Shasta, Yeshe Nyingpo on the Oregon border and Rigdzin Ling in northern California. They have an obligation to ensure that the dharma will flourish and to protect those centers and practitioners from the degenerating forces of these times as long as the practitioners maintain their practice and commitments.
The terton was not the first to recognize a special presence on Mt. Shasta. And to the crowd of mostly locals who overflowed the hall that evening it was no surprise that a high lama from Tibet recognized a special quality there. But I am impressed not only by the profundity of the blessing, but also by its implications. The dharma flourished for a millennium in the sanctuary of Tibet. In our lifetime, however, its monasteries have been toppled and relics auctioned off. We are reminded that throughout the course of human history living spiritual traditions have become historical debris. Those of us who have received empowerments have a commitment to uphold these living lineages as sponsors, workers and practitioners. What of everything handed to us now will still exist and be passed on in a thousand years? Will mind pour into mind, or will only empty words in books remain? Ours is a tremendous task, a great responsibility. But it is reassuring to know that some of the same spirits that protected Tibet for the past thousand years protect us here now. May the tradition of Guru Padmasambhava flourish!
His Holiness Orgyan Kusum Lingpa, a preeminent Dzogchen, or Great Perfection, teacher and one of the great tertons, or treasure revealers, of our time, came to the United States for the first time this spring.
His tour, which included visits to Boston, New York and Colorado as well as the West Coast, was co-sponsored by Chagdud Gonpa and Yeshe Nyingpo. He gave empowerments and taught extensively from his innumerable treasures, traveling with a scribe by his side who took down his mind treasures as he revealed them, round the clock.
Of his capacity as a terton, His Holiness has said, "Much earlier in my life, I made a pilgrimage to Samye Ling, Padmasambhava's original monastery. There, .... I spontaneously saw all my past and future lives. I recalled all the teachings which I had received directly from Guru Rinpoche when I was his disciple, and I saw all the hardships and difficulties of the times in which I am now living. This made it possible for me to reveal those teachings which have remained hidden in this time of intense suffering."
The visit of His Holiness to Los Angeles coincided with a relatively minor earthquake, precipitating a series of Vajrakilaya dreams. Thisl ed him to establish Orgyan Khakyod Ling, a Vajrakilaya retreat center in the Los Angeles area, to help avert a catastrophic earthquake and other natural calamities in this country arising from the upheaval of the five elements, such as droughts, fires, and storms. The Vajrakilaya practice is very powerful for overcoming obstacles and perilous circumstances.
Everywhere His Holiness traveled, he benefited beings, seen and unseen, in profound and personal ways, as illustrated by the following account of James Martin, a full-time volunteer at Rigdzin Ling.
"You'd better hurry," said Jane Tromge, Rinpoche's wife. "You don't know what the terton will do." This I knew to be true. Although I had told people on the phone that the ceremony would begin at 1:30, I knew from my experience at Rigdzin Ling not to rely on anything as ordinary as schedules and things in print. The terton Kusum Lingpa, now heading south from Oregon, had scheduled this event, a smoke offering to the local godsat Mt. Shasta.
Khanpo Gyurmed Tinly and I arrived in Shasta City by 11:30 and sped up the mountain as far as the road would go. "We're early,"I said. "That's good," the Khanpo responded. Only a handful of skiers, hikers, strollers and dogs had already arrived. That gave us time to explore, the Khanpo in leather loafers and me in my Birkenstocks, trudging through the snow. He had brought a bag of tsampa (roasted barley flour) to make his own smoke offering, and we climbed a ridge, where we built a fire on a rock above the snow. He had me fetch leaves and branches for him, while he chanted and made an offering to beings I could not see but appreciated all the more. It was a full hour before he gestured that we had done enough, and we watched silently as the smoke dwindled into ashes.
We descended to the parking area, already 1:30. The camera crew was setting up and members of our Oregon sangha were gathering. So I was surprised when the Khanpo came to me and said we should go have lunch, twenty minutes away in Shasta City. I looked at my watch, but the Khanpo wasn't worried, "He's not coming." We had a good meal, and the Khanpo, a second pot of tea. Finally, at 3:00, we headed up again, encountering a sangha member who led us to a house where the terton was having lunch. A cup of tea later and with great commotion, we were all out the door, up the mountain, as far as the road would go. I went first, waving a wand of poorly lit incense. A train of lamas and enthusiasts followed my Birkenstocks into the knee-deep snow.
The gods and protectors inhabiting this power spot called Shasta must have been well pleased, as the smoke billowed in a steady white cone curling down the mountain, enshrouding the terton, several lamas, sangha members, and the skiers, hikers, strollers and dogs, all brought together for that occasion. I never know much of what's going on, but I understood now that somehow the meaning of the ceremony twisted around my own karmic unraveling, revealing my own mind. And that day my mind was a little more luminous, a little less bound.
It was later in the evening at the empowerment in town that we learned of the day's significance. In the 1940s, before the Chinese invasion, the terton noticed that several of the Tibetan local protectors had departed. He didn't know where they had gone until now. When the terton was flying from San Francisco to Portland at the beginning of his tour, the clouds opened, revealing the summit of Mt. Shasta. He recognized the spirits inhabiting that spot to be the same protectors that had left Tibet. They had preceded the spread of dharma to this country, and now offer protection to the young dharma centers and practitioners here, particularly those centers closest to Mt. Shasta, Yeshe Nyingpo on the Oregon border and Rigdzin Ling in northern California. They have an obligation to ensure that the dharma will flourish and to protect those centers and practitioners from the degenerating forces of these times as long as the practitioners maintain their practice and commitments.
The terton was not the first to recognize a special presence on Mt. Shasta. And to the crowd of mostly locals who overflowed the hall that evening it was no surprise that a high lama from Tibet recognized a special quality there. But I am impressed not only by the profundity of the blessing, but also by its implications. The dharma flourished for a millennium in the sanctuary of Tibet. In our lifetime, however, its monasteries have been toppled and relics auctioned off. We are reminded that throughout the course of human history living spiritual traditions have become historical debris. Those of us who have received empowerments have a commitment to uphold these living lineages as sponsors, workers and practitioners. What of everything handed to us now will still exist and be passed on in a thousand years? Will mind pour into mind, or will only empty words in books remain? Ours is a tremendous task, a great responsibility. But it is reassuring to know that some of the same spirits that protected Tibet for the past thousand years protect us here now. May the tradition of Guru Padmasambhava flourish!
His Holiness Orgyan Kusum Lingpa, a preeminent Dzogchen, or Great Perfection, teacher and one of the great tertons, or treasure revealers, of our time, came to the United States for the first time this spring.
His tour, which included visits to Boston, New York and Colorado as well as the West Coast, was co-sponsored by Chagdud Gonpa and Yeshe Nyingpo. He gave empowerments and taught extensively from his innumerable treasures, traveling with a scribe by his side who took down his mind treasures as he revealed them, round the clock.
Of his capacity as a terton, His Holiness has said, "Much earlier in my life, I made a pilgrimage to Samye Ling, Padmasambhava's original monastery. There, .... I spontaneously saw all my past and future lives. I recalled all the teachings which I had received directly from Guru Rinpoche when I was his disciple, and I saw all the hardships and difficulties of the times in which I am now living. This made it possible for me to reveal those teachings which have remained hidden in this time of intense suffering."
The visit of His Holiness to Los Angeles coincided with a relatively minor earthquake, precipitating a series of Vajrakilaya dreams. Thisl ed him to establish Orgyan Khakyod Ling, a Vajrakilaya retreat center in the Los Angeles area, to help avert a catastrophic earthquake and other natural calamities in this country arising from the upheaval of the five elements, such as droughts, fires, and storms. The Vajrakilaya practice is very powerful for overcoming obstacles and perilous circumstances.
Everywhere His Holiness traveled, he benefited beings, seen and unseen, in profound and personal ways, as illustrated by the following account of James Martin, a full-time volunteer at Rigdzin Ling.
"You'd better hurry," said Jane Tromge, Rinpoche's wife. "You don't know what the terton will do." This I knew to be true. Although I had told people on the phone that the ceremony would begin at 1:30, I knew from my experience at Rigdzin Ling not to rely on anything as ordinary as schedules and things in print. The terton Kusum Lingpa, now heading south from Oregon, had scheduled this event, a smoke offering to the local godsat Mt. Shasta.
Khanpo Gyurmed Tinly and I arrived in Shasta City by 11:30 and sped up the mountain as far as the road would go. "We're early,"I said. "That's good," the Khanpo responded. Only a handful of skiers, hikers, strollers and dogs had already arrived. That gave us time to explore, the Khanpo in leather loafers and me in my Birkenstocks, trudging through the snow. He had brought a bag of tsampa (roasted barley flour) to make his own smoke offering, and we climbed a ridge, where we built a fire on a rock above the snow. He had me fetch leaves and branches for him, while he chanted and made an offering to beings I could not see but appreciated all the more. It was a full hour before he gestured that we had done enough, and we watched silently as the smoke dwindled into ashes.
We descended to the parking area, already 1:30. The camera crew was setting up and members of our Oregon sangha were gathering. So I was surprised when the Khanpo came to me and said we should go have lunch, twenty minutes away in Shasta City. I looked at my watch, but the Khanpo wasn't worried, "He's not coming." We had a good meal, and the Khanpo, a second pot of tea. Finally, at 3:00, we headed up again, encountering a sangha member who led us to a house where the terton was having lunch. A cup of tea later and with great commotion, we were all out the door, up the mountain, as far as the road would go. I went first, waving a wand of poorly lit incense. A train of lamas and enthusiasts followed my Birkenstocks into the knee-deep snow.
The gods and protectors inhabiting this power spot called Shasta must have been well pleased, as the smoke billowed in a steady white cone curling down the mountain, enshrouding the terton, several lamas, sangha members, and the skiers, hikers, strollers and dogs, all brought together for that occasion. I never know much of what's going on, but I understood now that somehow the meaning of the ceremony twisted around my own karmic unraveling, revealing my own mind. And that day my mind was a little more luminous, a little less bound.
It was later in the evening at the empowerment in town that we learned of the day's significance. In the 1940s, before the Chinese invasion, the terton noticed that several of the Tibetan local protectors had departed. He didn't know where they had gone until now. When the terton was flying from San Francisco to Portland at the beginning of his tour, the clouds opened, revealing the summit of Mt. Shasta. He recognized the spirits inhabiting that spot to be the same protectors that had left Tibet. They had preceded the spread of dharma to this country, and now offer protection to the young dharma centers and practitioners here, particularly those centers closest to Mt. Shasta, Yeshe Nyingpo on the Oregon border and Rigdzin Ling in northern California. They have an obligation to ensure that the dharma will flourish and to protect those centers and practitioners from the degenerating forces of these times as long as the practitioners maintain their practice and commitments.
The terton was not the first to recognize a special presence on Mt. Shasta. And to the crowd of mostly locals who overflowed the hall that evening it was no surprise that a high lama from Tibet recognized a special quality there. But I am impressed not only by the profundity of the blessing, but also by its implications. The dharma flourished for a millennium in the sanctuary of Tibet. In our lifetime, however, its monasteries have been toppled and relics auctioned off. We are reminded that throughout the course of human history living spiritual traditions have become historical debris. Those of us who have received empowerments have a commitment to uphold these living lineages as sponsors, workers and practitioners. What of everything handed to us now will still exist and be passed on in a thousand years? Will mind pour into mind, or will only empty words in books remain? Ours is a tremendous task, a great responsibility. But it is reassuring to know that some of the same spirits that protected Tibet for the past thousand years protect us here now. May the tradition of Guru Padmasambhava flourish!
His Holiness Orgyan Kusum Lingpa, a preeminent Dzogchen, or Great Perfection, teacher and one of the great tertons, or treasure revealers, of our time, came to the United States for the first time this spring.
His tour, which included visits to Boston, New York and Colorado as well as the West Coast, was co-sponsored by Chagdud Gonpa and Yeshe Nyingpo. He gave empowerments and taught extensively from his innumerable treasures, traveling with a scribe by his side who took down his mind treasures as he revealed them, round the clock.
Of his capacity as a terton, His Holiness has said, "Much earlier in my life, I made a pilgrimage to Samye Ling, Padmasambhava's original monastery. There, .... I spontaneously saw all my past and future lives. I recalled all the teachings which I had received directly from Guru Rinpoche when I was his disciple, and I saw all the hardships and difficulties of the times in which I am now living. This made it possible for me to reveal those teachings which have remained hidden in this time of intense suffering."
The visit of His Holiness to Los Angeles coincided with a relatively minor earthquake, precipitating a series of Vajrakilaya dreams. Thisl ed him to establish Orgyan Khakyod Ling, a Vajrakilaya retreat center in the Los Angeles area, to help avert a catastrophic earthquake and other natural calamities in this country arising from the upheaval of the five elements, such as droughts, fires, and storms. The Vajrakilaya practice is very powerful for overcoming obstacles and perilous circumstances.
Everywhere His Holiness traveled, he benefited beings, seen and unseen, in profound and personal ways, as illustrated by the following account of James Martin, a full-time volunteer at Rigdzin Ling.
"You'd better hurry," said Jane Tromge, Rinpoche's wife. "You don't know what the terton will do." This I knew to be true. Although I had told people on the phone that the ceremony would begin at 1:30, I knew from my experience at Rigdzin Ling not to rely on anything as ordinary as schedules and things in print. The terton Kusum Lingpa, now heading south from Oregon, had scheduled this event, a smoke offering to the local godsat Mt. Shasta.
Khanpo Gyurmed Tinly and I arrived in Shasta City by 11:30 and sped up the mountain as far as the road would go. "We're early,"I said. "That's good," the Khanpo responded. Only a handful of skiers, hikers, strollers and dogs had already arrived. That gave us time to explore, the Khanpo in leather loafers and me in my Birkenstocks, trudging through the snow. He had brought a bag of tsampa (roasted barley flour) to make his own smoke offering, and we climbed a ridge, where we built a fire on a rock above the snow. He had me fetch leaves and branches for him, while he chanted and made an offering to beings I could not see but appreciated all the more. It was a full hour before he gestured that we had done enough, and we watched silently as the smoke dwindled into ashes.
We descended to the parking area, already 1:30. The camera crew was setting up and members of our Oregon sangha were gathering. So I was surprised when the Khanpo came to me and said we should go have lunch, twenty minutes away in Shasta City. I looked at my watch, but the Khanpo wasn't worried, "He's not coming." We had a good meal, and the Khanpo, a second pot of tea. Finally, at 3:00, we headed up again, encountering a sangha member who led us to a house where the terton was having lunch. A cup of tea later and with great commotion, we were all out the door, up the mountain, as far as the road would go. I went first, waving a wand of poorly lit incense. A train of lamas and enthusiasts followed my Birkenstocks into the knee-deep snow.
The gods and protectors inhabiting this power spot called Shasta must have been well pleased, as the smoke billowed in a steady white cone curling down the mountain, enshrouding the terton, several lamas, sangha members, and the skiers, hikers, strollers and dogs, all brought together for that occasion. I never know much of what's going on, but I understood now that somehow the meaning of the ceremony twisted around my own karmic unraveling, revealing my own mind. And that day my mind was a little more luminous, a little less bound.
It was later in the evening at the empowerment in town that we learned of the day's significance. In the 1940s, before the Chinese invasion, the terton noticed that several of the Tibetan local protectors had departed. He didn't know where they had gone until now. When the terton was flying from San Francisco to Portland at the beginning of his tour, the clouds opened, revealing the summit of Mt. Shasta. He recognized the spirits inhabiting that spot to be the same protectors that had left Tibet. They had preceded the spread of dharma to this country, and now offer protection to the young dharma centers and practitioners here, particularly those centers closest to Mt. Shasta, Yeshe Nyingpo on the Oregon border and Rigdzin Ling in northern California. They have an obligation to ensure that the dharma will flourish and to protect those centers and practitioners from the degenerating forces of these times as long as the practitioners maintain their practice and commitments.
The terton was not the first to recognize a special presence on Mt. Shasta. And to the crowd of mostly locals who overflowed the hall that evening it was no surprise that a high lama from Tibet recognized a special quality there. But I am impressed not only by the profundity of the blessing, but also by its implications. The dharma flourished for a millennium in the sanctuary of Tibet. In our lifetime, however, its monasteries have been toppled and relics auctioned off. We are reminded that throughout the course of human history living spiritual traditions have become historical debris. Those of us who have received empowerments have a commitment to uphold these living lineages as sponsors, workers and practitioners. What of everything handed to us now will still exist and be passed on in a thousand years? Will mind pour into mind, or will only empty words in books remain? Ours is a tremendous task, a great responsibility. But it is reassuring to know that some of the same spirits that protected Tibet for the past thousand years protect us here now. May the tradition of Guru Padmasambhava flourish!
