Lama Sherab was very close to Rinpoche during the last few years of his life, serving as administrator, translator, caregiver, and attendant. Recently she was ordained as a Chagdud Gonpa lama. During the January 2003 dzogchen retreat at Khadro Ling, Lama Sherab spoke with Lama Trinley about her personal experience of Rinpoche’s passing, his activities, and his legacy to us all. Some remarks Lama Sherab made during a teaching she gave to sangha members at the retreat have been included as well.
Lama Trinley: When I arrived at Khadro Ling in January, it seemed that many of Rinpoche’s large projects here had just been completed just before he passed away. The butterlamp house, the Akshobhya statue, many large prayer wheels, the stupas, and the murals in the Lha Khang were all nearly finished. With all that he had accomplished here, do you think maybe he felt that it was okay to go?
Lama Sherab: I don’t know about that. Rinpoche still had many things he wanted to do. He was planning the Akshobhya garden around the statue. He was going to begin work on a large Dudjom Lingpa stupa in January. He had promised Cara he would build a Guru Rinpoche statue on her place. There was the retreat land being developed in Uruguay, where he had been talking about going next. And there was the Padmasambhava Palace that he was just starting the statues for.
Rinpoche died working. I always knew it would be that way because he would never stop. I worry about everything at the Gonpa and I see how much Khadro holds here, but when Rinpoche left, he had so much more responsibility than we do. There’s no comparison. Yet even with all his students who relied on him and his wife in retreat he didn’t hesitate to go because he wasn’t attached to anything. He was so generous in serving sentient beings and yet he had no attachment.
His death, for me, was a lesson in impermanence because he didn’t die slowly—he just said, “I’m going.” It was like he had stepped on to an airplane, waved goodbye and then the doors closed. He was completely conscious.
I think about all his activities which we will of course continue with, but at the same time I keep remembering the moment he died and I tell myself, “Don’t have attachment because this is all just a dream.” That was the main lesson I got from his death.
There was no time to get to the hospital. Even though I was desperate, thinking I had to do something, I knew we couldn’t do anything. I don’t know how to explain it but it was an active death, not passive. Rinpoche was like that, always active and doing things fast. So his death was like, “I’m just going to change my body.” In fact, sometimes he would say to me, “It’s time to change bodies.” Rinpoche had talked about “going” for most of the past year.
So he knew. We didn’t think so, perhaps because we wanted him to stay longer. When he had dreams that indicated he was going to die, he told us not to pray anymore for his long life but so that obstacles would be removed for his next reincarnation. He had dreams of being a baby and having a mother. Sometimes he dreamed of looking for a house in a different place and he was alone—these dreams indicated to him that he was going to go soon.
I used to ask him, “What do I do when you die? Should I try to save you?” He would never answer—not say anything, just be quiet. Sometimes I would ask him if he knew where he was going to be reborn and he wouldn’t say anything. So I think he knew something but he didn’t want to say.
Lama Trinley: Rinpoche’s health was quite unstable in the later years of his life. As his personal attendant, how did you work with that in your own practice?
Lama Sherab: As a nurse I knew that Rinpoche’s heart condition was very serious— like a time bomb that could explode any minute. I told him that if this happened at Khadro Ling it would be over, because we are so isolated. But in his last few days he had seemed very strong. Two days before we had walked all around the Akshobya statue planning landscaping and he hadn’t had any pain. And then it was like it had to be.
I didn’t expect it would be any different. To witness Rinpoche’s passing was to witness his realization. After his body stopped moving—what we call death—the experience was that he was everywhere. There was a very strong and perceptible presence, and a source of great openness, peace, and bliss. During that whole time, through all the difficult experiences of dealing with the media, finding a way to preserve the body, transport the body to Nepal, etc. there was always this experience of great bliss—the certainty that he was not separate from us for even a moment. When I came down to the shrine for the first time, seeing the sangha was seeing Rinpoche. Wherever I looked, he was there.
I have never felt that he has died in the usual sense because whenever I think of his teachings, his words, his advice, then he is alive. It’s just that his body is no longer here. His teachings and activities are the real Rinpoche. We are so fortunate to have been given so much. Whenever I’m doing practice when I’m trying to watch my mind I think, Rinpoche gave me that. He gave us so much. He gave us everything. Even those students who knew him only for a short time were given everything.
I miss him a lot, seeing him and hearing his voice. Of course we know his Tulku will come back but Rinpoche will not have the same body. He’s probably not going to be that cute, charming guy who liked to dress up in his red hat and sunglasses. He might be a severe monk. We are not going to have that emanation anymore—because that was just one.
Lama Trinley: When you met Rinpoche, did you know right away that you had a strong connection?
Lama Sherab: When I met Rinpoche in 1992, I was looking for a spiritual path. My first impression was that I was seeing somebody from a completely different world. I remember that I had great respect for him and also that whenever he would come into the room, I would cry. I had been very Catholic my whole life and although some of the Buddhist ideas were very different, at the same time they were very familiar to me. I really trusted that what Rinpoche said was right and true and when he gave a Tara empowerment I had a feeling this was something was really good. I didn’t understand any of what he said but the damaru, the bell, the tsok, everything just made sense to me.
We started to do Tara practice in Belo Horizonte and the next year Rinpoche came back to build a Guru Rinpoche statue there. Someone was needed to drive him and Khadro to the statue site every day. I was able to take time off from work and I understood English well enough to communicate with them. So for two weeks I drove and served them their meals every day; it was during this time that I grew close to both Khadro and Rinpoche. I really loved that. I think it was the best time I had ever had in my life. When they went on to São Paulo I decided to go along to serve them there, and that was it. I took ngondro teachings, started my ngondro and began to follow him everywhere.
When he bought this land in 1994 he asked me, “If I move to Brazil will you come to the South?” I said, “No doubt. Just tell me when you are coming and I’ll be there.” In July, 1995, Rinpoche moved here and began to develop Khadro Ling. I grew in so many ways over the next seven years. I was extremely shy, rarely spoke, and had difficulty relating to people. Working with him meant I had to do it all. I had to sit in front of 400 people and translate. What I had tried to develop through therapy, Rinpoche developed very swiftly, just by having me around him and serving him.
Some of us in the sangha were closer to him, taking care of his personal, human needs. Those that didn’t, might think, “How lucky they are to be close to him, serve him tea…” As if being close to him meant that our practice would miraculously improve. But it’s not really like that. I sometimes think that the students physically close to him are the worst ones and that they need that closeness to improve. In the past eight years I didn’t do a lot of formal practice. I was not always able to keep my mind focused or cultivate pure motivation. I was not always able to see the illusory quality of everything. Sometimes the gonpa seemed very solid and I created nonvirtue by believing in this solidity. So, just being near Rinpoche doesn’t necessarily mean enlightenment. To serve him creates merit but it doesn’t excuse us from the need to change our mental habits—to practice in order to progress.
The longer I knew him the more I saw his great compassion, generosity, and patience with his students. Sometimes I had trouble understanding how he could keep listening to certain difficult people. I had little patience translating and wondered how he could be so patient. But when I realized that it came from his compassion and generosity it helped me to have more patience.
I was not always able to say yes to Rinpoche. Sometimes I would fight. Sometimes it was difficult to do what he asked me to, but deep inside, in a more subtle way, I never doubted that he was the answer to everything that I’ve searched for, that he could lead me to spiritual realization. It was a gift of life to meet him and be with him. To be able to translate for and serve him was my good karma—maybe his bad karma, ripening. For me, nothing better could have happened.
I think sometimes Rinpoche was a little concerned about who would support Khadro because he knew he was going to go before her. I always told him, “I think I am tied to both you and Khadro. There is no place to go, nothing else to do.” So there was this very strong karmic connection not just with him but with her as well.
Lama Trinley: When Rinpoche moved to Brazil, I asked Khadro how Rinpoche would finance his projects there. And she said, “Rinpoche has never worried about money because whenever he needs it, it comes.”
Lama Sherab: When we started the Lha Khang we didn’t even have the money to finish it but it just kept coming. It was really amazing, his merit. And now here at Khadro Ling we have this big place, full of people.
We usually have many visitors at Khadro Ling on Sunday afternoon. Last Sunday, I happened to look out at the stupas and the temple and as I did so, I put myself in the place of a tourist—a non-Buddhist person living in this part of Brazil—and I had the thought, “This is a really nice place.” For people coming here who have never been exposed to Buddhism this is something really wonderful, because it is so completely different. Rinpoche gave this gift to Brazilians.
Lama Trinley: I had always looked at tourism here in a very ordinary way, but now, I think I understand what Rinpoche was doing in making Khadro Ling so accessible to the Brazilian public through media coverage and tourism.
Lama Sherab: That was what he wanted to do—to provide people with some connection. Now the thought is to put some of Rinpoche’s relics in the Guru Rinpoche Palace. The people from town were very sad when Rinpoche’s body was taken to Nepal. So I think for his relics to come back to Khadro Ling—to Brazil—is going to be a big deal. It’s going to be nice.
Lama Trinley: How do you feel you can best serve Rinpoche at this time?
Lama Sherab: When he was in retreat the month before he left, I asked him, “Rinpoche, how are we going to hold all of this—all your activities?” He said, “Just do practice. That’s all you need to do, your practice.”
Lama Sherab was very close to Rinpoche during the last few years of his life, serving as administrator, translator, caregiver, and attendant. Recently she was ordained as a Chagdud Gonpa lama. During the January 2003 dzogchen retreat at Khadro Ling, Lama Sherab spoke with Lama Trinley about her personal experience of Rinpoche’s passing, his activities, and his legacy to us all. Some remarks Lama Sherab made during a teaching she gave to sangha members at the retreat have been included as well.
Lama Trinley: When I arrived at Khadro Ling in January, it seemed that many of Rinpoche’s large projects here had just been completed just before he passed away. The butterlamp house, the Akshobhya statue, many large prayer wheels, the stupas, and the murals in the Lha Khang were all nearly finished. With all that he had accomplished here, do you think maybe he felt that it was okay to go?
Lama Sherab: I don’t know about that. Rinpoche still had many things he wanted to do. He was planning the Akshobhya garden around the statue. He was going to begin work on a large Dudjom Lingpa stupa in January. He had promised Cara he would build a Guru Rinpoche statue on her place. There was the retreat land being developed in Uruguay, where he had been talking about going next. And there was the Padmasambhava Palace that he was just starting the statues for.
Rinpoche died working. I always knew it would be that way because he would never stop. I worry about everything at the Gonpa and I see how much Khadro holds here, but when Rinpoche left, he had so much more responsibility than we do. There’s no comparison. Yet even with all his students who relied on him and his wife in retreat he didn’t hesitate to go because he wasn’t attached to anything. He was so generous in serving sentient beings and yet he had no attachment.
His death, for me, was a lesson in impermanence because he didn’t die slowly—he just said, “I’m going.” It was like he had stepped on to an airplane, waved goodbye and then the doors closed. He was completely conscious.
I think about all his activities which we will of course continue with, but at the same time I keep remembering the moment he died and I tell myself, “Don’t have attachment because this is all just a dream.” That was the main lesson I got from his death.
There was no time to get to the hospital. Even though I was desperate, thinking I had to do something, I knew we couldn’t do anything. I don’t know how to explain it but it was an active death, not passive. Rinpoche was like that, always active and doing things fast. So his death was like, “I’m just going to change my body.” In fact, sometimes he would say to me, “It’s time to change bodies.” Rinpoche had talked about “going” for most of the past year.
So he knew. We didn’t think so, perhaps because we wanted him to stay longer. When he had dreams that indicated he was going to die, he told us not to pray anymore for his long life but so that obstacles would be removed for his next reincarnation. He had dreams of being a baby and having a mother. Sometimes he dreamed of looking for a house in a different place and he was alone—these dreams indicated to him that he was going to go soon.
I used to ask him, “What do I do when you die? Should I try to save you?” He would never answer—not say anything, just be quiet. Sometimes I would ask him if he knew where he was going to be reborn and he wouldn’t say anything. So I think he knew something but he didn’t want to say.
Lama Trinley: Rinpoche’s health was quite unstable in the later years of his life. As his personal attendant, how did you work with that in your own practice?
Lama Sherab: As a nurse I knew that Rinpoche’s heart condition was very serious— like a time bomb that could explode any minute. I told him that if this happened at Khadro Ling it would be over, because we are so isolated. But in his last few days he had seemed very strong. Two days before we had walked all around the Akshobya statue planning landscaping and he hadn’t had any pain. And then it was like it had to be.
I didn’t expect it would be any different. To witness Rinpoche’s passing was to witness his realization. After his body stopped moving—what we call death—the experience was that he was everywhere. There was a very strong and perceptible presence, and a source of great openness, peace, and bliss. During that whole time, through all the difficult experiences of dealing with the media, finding a way to preserve the body, transport the body to Nepal, etc. there was always this experience of great bliss—the certainty that he was not separate from us for even a moment. When I came down to the shrine for the first time, seeing the sangha was seeing Rinpoche. Wherever I looked, he was there.
I have never felt that he has died in the usual sense because whenever I think of his teachings, his words, his advice, then he is alive. It’s just that his body is no longer here. His teachings and activities are the real Rinpoche. We are so fortunate to have been given so much. Whenever I’m doing practice when I’m trying to watch my mind I think, Rinpoche gave me that. He gave us so much. He gave us everything. Even those students who knew him only for a short time were given everything.
I miss him a lot, seeing him and hearing his voice. Of course we know his Tulku will come back but Rinpoche will not have the same body. He’s probably not going to be that cute, charming guy who liked to dress up in his red hat and sunglasses. He might be a severe monk. We are not going to have that emanation anymore—because that was just one.
Lama Trinley: When you met Rinpoche, did you know right away that you had a strong connection?
Lama Sherab: When I met Rinpoche in 1992, I was looking for a spiritual path. My first impression was that I was seeing somebody from a completely different world. I remember that I had great respect for him and also that whenever he would come into the room, I would cry. I had been very Catholic my whole life and although some of the Buddhist ideas were very different, at the same time they were very familiar to me. I really trusted that what Rinpoche said was right and true and when he gave a Tara empowerment I had a feeling this was something was really good. I didn’t understand any of what he said but the damaru, the bell, the tsok, everything just made sense to me.
We started to do Tara practice in Belo Horizonte and the next year Rinpoche came back to build a Guru Rinpoche statue there. Someone was needed to drive him and Khadro to the statue site every day. I was able to take time off from work and I understood English well enough to communicate with them. So for two weeks I drove and served them their meals every day; it was during this time that I grew close to both Khadro and Rinpoche. I really loved that. I think it was the best time I had ever had in my life. When they went on to São Paulo I decided to go along to serve them there, and that was it. I took ngondro teachings, started my ngondro and began to follow him everywhere.
When he bought this land in 1994 he asked me, “If I move to Brazil will you come to the South?” I said, “No doubt. Just tell me when you are coming and I’ll be there.” In July, 1995, Rinpoche moved here and began to develop Khadro Ling. I grew in so many ways over the next seven years. I was extremely shy, rarely spoke, and had difficulty relating to people. Working with him meant I had to do it all. I had to sit in front of 400 people and translate. What I had tried to develop through therapy, Rinpoche developed very swiftly, just by having me around him and serving him.
Some of us in the sangha were closer to him, taking care of his personal, human needs. Those that didn’t, might think, “How lucky they are to be close to him, serve him tea…” As if being close to him meant that our practice would miraculously improve. But it’s not really like that. I sometimes think that the students physically close to him are the worst ones and that they need that closeness to improve. In the past eight years I didn’t do a lot of formal practice. I was not always able to keep my mind focused or cultivate pure motivation. I was not always able to see the illusory quality of everything. Sometimes the gonpa seemed very solid and I created nonvirtue by believing in this solidity. So, just being near Rinpoche doesn’t necessarily mean enlightenment. To serve him creates merit but it doesn’t excuse us from the need to change our mental habits—to practice in order to progress.
The longer I knew him the more I saw his great compassion, generosity, and patience with his students. Sometimes I had trouble understanding how he could keep listening to certain difficult people. I had little patience translating and wondered how he could be so patient. But when I realized that it came from his compassion and generosity it helped me to have more patience.
I was not always able to say yes to Rinpoche. Sometimes I would fight. Sometimes it was difficult to do what he asked me to, but deep inside, in a more subtle way, I never doubted that he was the answer to everything that I’ve searched for, that he could lead me to spiritual realization. It was a gift of life to meet him and be with him. To be able to translate for and serve him was my good karma—maybe his bad karma, ripening. For me, nothing better could have happened.
I think sometimes Rinpoche was a little concerned about who would support Khadro because he knew he was going to go before her. I always told him, “I think I am tied to both you and Khadro. There is no place to go, nothing else to do.” So there was this very strong karmic connection not just with him but with her as well.
Lama Trinley: When Rinpoche moved to Brazil, I asked Khadro how Rinpoche would finance his projects there. And she said, “Rinpoche has never worried about money because whenever he needs it, it comes.”
Lama Sherab: When we started the Lha Khang we didn’t even have the money to finish it but it just kept coming. It was really amazing, his merit. And now here at Khadro Ling we have this big place, full of people.
We usually have many visitors at Khadro Ling on Sunday afternoon. Last Sunday, I happened to look out at the stupas and the temple and as I did so, I put myself in the place of a tourist—a non-Buddhist person living in this part of Brazil—and I had the thought, “This is a really nice place.” For people coming here who have never been exposed to Buddhism this is something really wonderful, because it is so completely different. Rinpoche gave this gift to Brazilians.
Lama Trinley: I had always looked at tourism here in a very ordinary way, but now, I think I understand what Rinpoche was doing in making Khadro Ling so accessible to the Brazilian public through media coverage and tourism.
Lama Sherab: That was what he wanted to do—to provide people with some connection. Now the thought is to put some of Rinpoche’s relics in the Guru Rinpoche Palace. The people from town were very sad when Rinpoche’s body was taken to Nepal. So I think for his relics to come back to Khadro Ling—to Brazil—is going to be a big deal. It’s going to be nice.
Lama Trinley: How do you feel you can best serve Rinpoche at this time?
Lama Sherab: When he was in retreat the month before he left, I asked him, “Rinpoche, how are we going to hold all of this—all your activities?” He said, “Just do practice. That’s all you need to do, your practice.”
Lama Sherab was very close to Rinpoche during the last few years of his life, serving as administrator, translator, caregiver, and attendant. Recently she was ordained as a Chagdud Gonpa lama. During the January 2003 dzogchen retreat at Khadro Ling, Lama Sherab spoke with Lama Trinley about her personal experience of Rinpoche’s passing, his activities, and his legacy to us all. Some remarks Lama Sherab made during a teaching she gave to sangha members at the retreat have been included as well.
Lama Trinley: When I arrived at Khadro Ling in January, it seemed that many of Rinpoche’s large projects here had just been completed just before he passed away. The butterlamp house, the Akshobhya statue, many large prayer wheels, the stupas, and the murals in the Lha Khang were all nearly finished. With all that he had accomplished here, do you think maybe he felt that it was okay to go?
Lama Sherab: I don’t know about that. Rinpoche still had many things he wanted to do. He was planning the Akshobhya garden around the statue. He was going to begin work on a large Dudjom Lingpa stupa in January. He had promised Cara he would build a Guru Rinpoche statue on her place. There was the retreat land being developed in Uruguay, where he had been talking about going next. And there was the Padmasambhava Palace that he was just starting the statues for.
Rinpoche died working. I always knew it would be that way because he would never stop. I worry about everything at the Gonpa and I see how much Khadro holds here, but when Rinpoche left, he had so much more responsibility than we do. There’s no comparison. Yet even with all his students who relied on him and his wife in retreat he didn’t hesitate to go because he wasn’t attached to anything. He was so generous in serving sentient beings and yet he had no attachment.
His death, for me, was a lesson in impermanence because he didn’t die slowly—he just said, “I’m going.” It was like he had stepped on to an airplane, waved goodbye and then the doors closed. He was completely conscious.
I think about all his activities which we will of course continue with, but at the same time I keep remembering the moment he died and I tell myself, “Don’t have attachment because this is all just a dream.” That was the main lesson I got from his death.
There was no time to get to the hospital. Even though I was desperate, thinking I had to do something, I knew we couldn’t do anything. I don’t know how to explain it but it was an active death, not passive. Rinpoche was like that, always active and doing things fast. So his death was like, “I’m just going to change my body.” In fact, sometimes he would say to me, “It’s time to change bodies.” Rinpoche had talked about “going” for most of the past year.
So he knew. We didn’t think so, perhaps because we wanted him to stay longer. When he had dreams that indicated he was going to die, he told us not to pray anymore for his long life but so that obstacles would be removed for his next reincarnation. He had dreams of being a baby and having a mother. Sometimes he dreamed of looking for a house in a different place and he was alone—these dreams indicated to him that he was going to go soon.
I used to ask him, “What do I do when you die? Should I try to save you?” He would never answer—not say anything, just be quiet. Sometimes I would ask him if he knew where he was going to be reborn and he wouldn’t say anything. So I think he knew something but he didn’t want to say.
Lama Trinley: Rinpoche’s health was quite unstable in the later years of his life. As his personal attendant, how did you work with that in your own practice?
Lama Sherab: As a nurse I knew that Rinpoche’s heart condition was very serious— like a time bomb that could explode any minute. I told him that if this happened at Khadro Ling it would be over, because we are so isolated. But in his last few days he had seemed very strong. Two days before we had walked all around the Akshobya statue planning landscaping and he hadn’t had any pain. And then it was like it had to be.
I didn’t expect it would be any different. To witness Rinpoche’s passing was to witness his realization. After his body stopped moving—what we call death—the experience was that he was everywhere. There was a very strong and perceptible presence, and a source of great openness, peace, and bliss. During that whole time, through all the difficult experiences of dealing with the media, finding a way to preserve the body, transport the body to Nepal, etc. there was always this experience of great bliss—the certainty that he was not separate from us for even a moment. When I came down to the shrine for the first time, seeing the sangha was seeing Rinpoche. Wherever I looked, he was there.
I have never felt that he has died in the usual sense because whenever I think of his teachings, his words, his advice, then he is alive. It’s just that his body is no longer here. His teachings and activities are the real Rinpoche. We are so fortunate to have been given so much. Whenever I’m doing practice when I’m trying to watch my mind I think, Rinpoche gave me that. He gave us so much. He gave us everything. Even those students who knew him only for a short time were given everything.
I miss him a lot, seeing him and hearing his voice. Of course we know his Tulku will come back but Rinpoche will not have the same body. He’s probably not going to be that cute, charming guy who liked to dress up in his red hat and sunglasses. He might be a severe monk. We are not going to have that emanation anymore—because that was just one.
Lama Trinley: When you met Rinpoche, did you know right away that you had a strong connection?
Lama Sherab: When I met Rinpoche in 1992, I was looking for a spiritual path. My first impression was that I was seeing somebody from a completely different world. I remember that I had great respect for him and also that whenever he would come into the room, I would cry. I had been very Catholic my whole life and although some of the Buddhist ideas were very different, at the same time they were very familiar to me. I really trusted that what Rinpoche said was right and true and when he gave a Tara empowerment I had a feeling this was something was really good. I didn’t understand any of what he said but the damaru, the bell, the tsok, everything just made sense to me.
We started to do Tara practice in Belo Horizonte and the next year Rinpoche came back to build a Guru Rinpoche statue there. Someone was needed to drive him and Khadro to the statue site every day. I was able to take time off from work and I understood English well enough to communicate with them. So for two weeks I drove and served them their meals every day; it was during this time that I grew close to both Khadro and Rinpoche. I really loved that. I think it was the best time I had ever had in my life. When they went on to São Paulo I decided to go along to serve them there, and that was it. I took ngondro teachings, started my ngondro and began to follow him everywhere.
When he bought this land in 1994 he asked me, “If I move to Brazil will you come to the South?” I said, “No doubt. Just tell me when you are coming and I’ll be there.” In July, 1995, Rinpoche moved here and began to develop Khadro Ling. I grew in so many ways over the next seven years. I was extremely shy, rarely spoke, and had difficulty relating to people. Working with him meant I had to do it all. I had to sit in front of 400 people and translate. What I had tried to develop through therapy, Rinpoche developed very swiftly, just by having me around him and serving him.
Some of us in the sangha were closer to him, taking care of his personal, human needs. Those that didn’t, might think, “How lucky they are to be close to him, serve him tea…” As if being close to him meant that our practice would miraculously improve. But it’s not really like that. I sometimes think that the students physically close to him are the worst ones and that they need that closeness to improve. In the past eight years I didn’t do a lot of formal practice. I was not always able to keep my mind focused or cultivate pure motivation. I was not always able to see the illusory quality of everything. Sometimes the gonpa seemed very solid and I created nonvirtue by believing in this solidity. So, just being near Rinpoche doesn’t necessarily mean enlightenment. To serve him creates merit but it doesn’t excuse us from the need to change our mental habits—to practice in order to progress.
The longer I knew him the more I saw his great compassion, generosity, and patience with his students. Sometimes I had trouble understanding how he could keep listening to certain difficult people. I had little patience translating and wondered how he could be so patient. But when I realized that it came from his compassion and generosity it helped me to have more patience.
I was not always able to say yes to Rinpoche. Sometimes I would fight. Sometimes it was difficult to do what he asked me to, but deep inside, in a more subtle way, I never doubted that he was the answer to everything that I’ve searched for, that he could lead me to spiritual realization. It was a gift of life to meet him and be with him. To be able to translate for and serve him was my good karma—maybe his bad karma, ripening. For me, nothing better could have happened.
I think sometimes Rinpoche was a little concerned about who would support Khadro because he knew he was going to go before her. I always told him, “I think I am tied to both you and Khadro. There is no place to go, nothing else to do.” So there was this very strong karmic connection not just with him but with her as well.
Lama Trinley: When Rinpoche moved to Brazil, I asked Khadro how Rinpoche would finance his projects there. And she said, “Rinpoche has never worried about money because whenever he needs it, it comes.”
Lama Sherab: When we started the Lha Khang we didn’t even have the money to finish it but it just kept coming. It was really amazing, his merit. And now here at Khadro Ling we have this big place, full of people.
We usually have many visitors at Khadro Ling on Sunday afternoon. Last Sunday, I happened to look out at the stupas and the temple and as I did so, I put myself in the place of a tourist—a non-Buddhist person living in this part of Brazil—and I had the thought, “This is a really nice place.” For people coming here who have never been exposed to Buddhism this is something really wonderful, because it is so completely different. Rinpoche gave this gift to Brazilians.
Lama Trinley: I had always looked at tourism here in a very ordinary way, but now, I think I understand what Rinpoche was doing in making Khadro Ling so accessible to the Brazilian public through media coverage and tourism.
Lama Sherab: That was what he wanted to do—to provide people with some connection. Now the thought is to put some of Rinpoche’s relics in the Guru Rinpoche Palace. The people from town were very sad when Rinpoche’s body was taken to Nepal. So I think for his relics to come back to Khadro Ling—to Brazil—is going to be a big deal. It’s going to be nice.
Lama Trinley: How do you feel you can best serve Rinpoche at this time?
Lama Sherab: When he was in retreat the month before he left, I asked him, “Rinpoche, how are we going to hold all of this—all your activities?” He said, “Just do practice. That’s all you need to do, your practice.”
Lama Sherab was very close to Rinpoche during the last few years of his life, serving as administrator, translator, caregiver, and attendant. Recently she was ordained as a Chagdud Gonpa lama. During the January 2003 dzogchen retreat at Khadro Ling, Lama Sherab spoke with Lama Trinley about her personal experience of Rinpoche’s passing, his activities, and his legacy to us all. Some remarks Lama Sherab made during a teaching she gave to sangha members at the retreat have been included as well.
Lama Trinley: When I arrived at Khadro Ling in January, it seemed that many of Rinpoche’s large projects here had just been completed just before he passed away. The butterlamp house, the Akshobhya statue, many large prayer wheels, the stupas, and the murals in the Lha Khang were all nearly finished. With all that he had accomplished here, do you think maybe he felt that it was okay to go?
Lama Sherab: I don’t know about that. Rinpoche still had many things he wanted to do. He was planning the Akshobhya garden around the statue. He was going to begin work on a large Dudjom Lingpa stupa in January. He had promised Cara he would build a Guru Rinpoche statue on her place. There was the retreat land being developed in Uruguay, where he had been talking about going next. And there was the Padmasambhava Palace that he was just starting the statues for.
Rinpoche died working. I always knew it would be that way because he would never stop. I worry about everything at the Gonpa and I see how much Khadro holds here, but when Rinpoche left, he had so much more responsibility than we do. There’s no comparison. Yet even with all his students who relied on him and his wife in retreat he didn’t hesitate to go because he wasn’t attached to anything. He was so generous in serving sentient beings and yet he had no attachment.
His death, for me, was a lesson in impermanence because he didn’t die slowly—he just said, “I’m going.” It was like he had stepped on to an airplane, waved goodbye and then the doors closed. He was completely conscious.
I think about all his activities which we will of course continue with, but at the same time I keep remembering the moment he died and I tell myself, “Don’t have attachment because this is all just a dream.” That was the main lesson I got from his death.
There was no time to get to the hospital. Even though I was desperate, thinking I had to do something, I knew we couldn’t do anything. I don’t know how to explain it but it was an active death, not passive. Rinpoche was like that, always active and doing things fast. So his death was like, “I’m just going to change my body.” In fact, sometimes he would say to me, “It’s time to change bodies.” Rinpoche had talked about “going” for most of the past year.
So he knew. We didn’t think so, perhaps because we wanted him to stay longer. When he had dreams that indicated he was going to die, he told us not to pray anymore for his long life but so that obstacles would be removed for his next reincarnation. He had dreams of being a baby and having a mother. Sometimes he dreamed of looking for a house in a different place and he was alone—these dreams indicated to him that he was going to go soon.
I used to ask him, “What do I do when you die? Should I try to save you?” He would never answer—not say anything, just be quiet. Sometimes I would ask him if he knew where he was going to be reborn and he wouldn’t say anything. So I think he knew something but he didn’t want to say.
Lama Trinley: Rinpoche’s health was quite unstable in the later years of his life. As his personal attendant, how did you work with that in your own practice?
Lama Sherab: As a nurse I knew that Rinpoche’s heart condition was very serious— like a time bomb that could explode any minute. I told him that if this happened at Khadro Ling it would be over, because we are so isolated. But in his last few days he had seemed very strong. Two days before we had walked all around the Akshobya statue planning landscaping and he hadn’t had any pain. And then it was like it had to be.
I didn’t expect it would be any different. To witness Rinpoche’s passing was to witness his realization. After his body stopped moving—what we call death—the experience was that he was everywhere. There was a very strong and perceptible presence, and a source of great openness, peace, and bliss. During that whole time, through all the difficult experiences of dealing with the media, finding a way to preserve the body, transport the body to Nepal, etc. there was always this experience of great bliss—the certainty that he was not separate from us for even a moment. When I came down to the shrine for the first time, seeing the sangha was seeing Rinpoche. Wherever I looked, he was there.
I have never felt that he has died in the usual sense because whenever I think of his teachings, his words, his advice, then he is alive. It’s just that his body is no longer here. His teachings and activities are the real Rinpoche. We are so fortunate to have been given so much. Whenever I’m doing practice when I’m trying to watch my mind I think, Rinpoche gave me that. He gave us so much. He gave us everything. Even those students who knew him only for a short time were given everything.
I miss him a lot, seeing him and hearing his voice. Of course we know his Tulku will come back but Rinpoche will not have the same body. He’s probably not going to be that cute, charming guy who liked to dress up in his red hat and sunglasses. He might be a severe monk. We are not going to have that emanation anymore—because that was just one.
Lama Trinley: When you met Rinpoche, did you know right away that you had a strong connection?
Lama Sherab: When I met Rinpoche in 1992, I was looking for a spiritual path. My first impression was that I was seeing somebody from a completely different world. I remember that I had great respect for him and also that whenever he would come into the room, I would cry. I had been very Catholic my whole life and although some of the Buddhist ideas were very different, at the same time they were very familiar to me. I really trusted that what Rinpoche said was right and true and when he gave a Tara empowerment I had a feeling this was something was really good. I didn’t understand any of what he said but the damaru, the bell, the tsok, everything just made sense to me.
We started to do Tara practice in Belo Horizonte and the next year Rinpoche came back to build a Guru Rinpoche statue there. Someone was needed to drive him and Khadro to the statue site every day. I was able to take time off from work and I understood English well enough to communicate with them. So for two weeks I drove and served them their meals every day; it was during this time that I grew close to both Khadro and Rinpoche. I really loved that. I think it was the best time I had ever had in my life. When they went on to São Paulo I decided to go along to serve them there, and that was it. I took ngondro teachings, started my ngondro and began to follow him everywhere.
When he bought this land in 1994 he asked me, “If I move to Brazil will you come to the South?” I said, “No doubt. Just tell me when you are coming and I’ll be there.” In July, 1995, Rinpoche moved here and began to develop Khadro Ling. I grew in so many ways over the next seven years. I was extremely shy, rarely spoke, and had difficulty relating to people. Working with him meant I had to do it all. I had to sit in front of 400 people and translate. What I had tried to develop through therapy, Rinpoche developed very swiftly, just by having me around him and serving him.
Some of us in the sangha were closer to him, taking care of his personal, human needs. Those that didn’t, might think, “How lucky they are to be close to him, serve him tea…” As if being close to him meant that our practice would miraculously improve. But it’s not really like that. I sometimes think that the students physically close to him are the worst ones and that they need that closeness to improve. In the past eight years I didn’t do a lot of formal practice. I was not always able to keep my mind focused or cultivate pure motivation. I was not always able to see the illusory quality of everything. Sometimes the gonpa seemed very solid and I created nonvirtue by believing in this solidity. So, just being near Rinpoche doesn’t necessarily mean enlightenment. To serve him creates merit but it doesn’t excuse us from the need to change our mental habits—to practice in order to progress.
The longer I knew him the more I saw his great compassion, generosity, and patience with his students. Sometimes I had trouble understanding how he could keep listening to certain difficult people. I had little patience translating and wondered how he could be so patient. But when I realized that it came from his compassion and generosity it helped me to have more patience.
I was not always able to say yes to Rinpoche. Sometimes I would fight. Sometimes it was difficult to do what he asked me to, but deep inside, in a more subtle way, I never doubted that he was the answer to everything that I’ve searched for, that he could lead me to spiritual realization. It was a gift of life to meet him and be with him. To be able to translate for and serve him was my good karma—maybe his bad karma, ripening. For me, nothing better could have happened.
I think sometimes Rinpoche was a little concerned about who would support Khadro because he knew he was going to go before her. I always told him, “I think I am tied to both you and Khadro. There is no place to go, nothing else to do.” So there was this very strong karmic connection not just with him but with her as well.
Lama Trinley: When Rinpoche moved to Brazil, I asked Khadro how Rinpoche would finance his projects there. And she said, “Rinpoche has never worried about money because whenever he needs it, it comes.”
Lama Sherab: When we started the Lha Khang we didn’t even have the money to finish it but it just kept coming. It was really amazing, his merit. And now here at Khadro Ling we have this big place, full of people.
We usually have many visitors at Khadro Ling on Sunday afternoon. Last Sunday, I happened to look out at the stupas and the temple and as I did so, I put myself in the place of a tourist—a non-Buddhist person living in this part of Brazil—and I had the thought, “This is a really nice place.” For people coming here who have never been exposed to Buddhism this is something really wonderful, because it is so completely different. Rinpoche gave this gift to Brazilians.
Lama Trinley: I had always looked at tourism here in a very ordinary way, but now, I think I understand what Rinpoche was doing in making Khadro Ling so accessible to the Brazilian public through media coverage and tourism.
Lama Sherab: That was what he wanted to do—to provide people with some connection. Now the thought is to put some of Rinpoche’s relics in the Guru Rinpoche Palace. The people from town were very sad when Rinpoche’s body was taken to Nepal. So I think for his relics to come back to Khadro Ling—to Brazil—is going to be a big deal. It’s going to be nice.
Lama Trinley: How do you feel you can best serve Rinpoche at this time?
Lama Sherab: When he was in retreat the month before he left, I asked him, “Rinpoche, how are we going to hold all of this—all your activities?” He said, “Just do practice. That’s all you need to do, your practice.”
Lama Sherab was very close to Rinpoche during the last few years of his life, serving as administrator, translator, caregiver, and attendant. Recently she was ordained as a Chagdud Gonpa lama. During the January 2003 dzogchen retreat at Khadro Ling, Lama Sherab spoke with Lama Trinley about her personal experience of Rinpoche’s passing, his activities, and his legacy to us all. Some remarks Lama Sherab made during a teaching she gave to sangha members at the retreat have been included as well.
Lama Trinley: When I arrived at Khadro Ling in January, it seemed that many of Rinpoche’s large projects here had just been completed just before he passed away. The butterlamp house, the Akshobhya statue, many large prayer wheels, the stupas, and the murals in the Lha Khang were all nearly finished. With all that he had accomplished here, do you think maybe he felt that it was okay to go?
Lama Sherab: I don’t know about that. Rinpoche still had many things he wanted to do. He was planning the Akshobhya garden around the statue. He was going to begin work on a large Dudjom Lingpa stupa in January. He had promised Cara he would build a Guru Rinpoche statue on her place. There was the retreat land being developed in Uruguay, where he had been talking about going next. And there was the Padmasambhava Palace that he was just starting the statues for.
Rinpoche died working. I always knew it would be that way because he would never stop. I worry about everything at the Gonpa and I see how much Khadro holds here, but when Rinpoche left, he had so much more responsibility than we do. There’s no comparison. Yet even with all his students who relied on him and his wife in retreat he didn’t hesitate to go because he wasn’t attached to anything. He was so generous in serving sentient beings and yet he had no attachment.
His death, for me, was a lesson in impermanence because he didn’t die slowly—he just said, “I’m going.” It was like he had stepped on to an airplane, waved goodbye and then the doors closed. He was completely conscious.
I think about all his activities which we will of course continue with, but at the same time I keep remembering the moment he died and I tell myself, “Don’t have attachment because this is all just a dream.” That was the main lesson I got from his death.
There was no time to get to the hospital. Even though I was desperate, thinking I had to do something, I knew we couldn’t do anything. I don’t know how to explain it but it was an active death, not passive. Rinpoche was like that, always active and doing things fast. So his death was like, “I’m just going to change my body.” In fact, sometimes he would say to me, “It’s time to change bodies.” Rinpoche had talked about “going” for most of the past year.
So he knew. We didn’t think so, perhaps because we wanted him to stay longer. When he had dreams that indicated he was going to die, he told us not to pray anymore for his long life but so that obstacles would be removed for his next reincarnation. He had dreams of being a baby and having a mother. Sometimes he dreamed of looking for a house in a different place and he was alone—these dreams indicated to him that he was going to go soon.
I used to ask him, “What do I do when you die? Should I try to save you?” He would never answer—not say anything, just be quiet. Sometimes I would ask him if he knew where he was going to be reborn and he wouldn’t say anything. So I think he knew something but he didn’t want to say.
Lama Trinley: Rinpoche’s health was quite unstable in the later years of his life. As his personal attendant, how did you work with that in your own practice?
Lama Sherab: As a nurse I knew that Rinpoche’s heart condition was very serious— like a time bomb that could explode any minute. I told him that if this happened at Khadro Ling it would be over, because we are so isolated. But in his last few days he had seemed very strong. Two days before we had walked all around the Akshobya statue planning landscaping and he hadn’t had any pain. And then it was like it had to be.
I didn’t expect it would be any different. To witness Rinpoche’s passing was to witness his realization. After his body stopped moving—what we call death—the experience was that he was everywhere. There was a very strong and perceptible presence, and a source of great openness, peace, and bliss. During that whole time, through all the difficult experiences of dealing with the media, finding a way to preserve the body, transport the body to Nepal, etc. there was always this experience of great bliss—the certainty that he was not separate from us for even a moment. When I came down to the shrine for the first time, seeing the sangha was seeing Rinpoche. Wherever I looked, he was there.
I have never felt that he has died in the usual sense because whenever I think of his teachings, his words, his advice, then he is alive. It’s just that his body is no longer here. His teachings and activities are the real Rinpoche. We are so fortunate to have been given so much. Whenever I’m doing practice when I’m trying to watch my mind I think, Rinpoche gave me that. He gave us so much. He gave us everything. Even those students who knew him only for a short time were given everything.
I miss him a lot, seeing him and hearing his voice. Of course we know his Tulku will come back but Rinpoche will not have the same body. He’s probably not going to be that cute, charming guy who liked to dress up in his red hat and sunglasses. He might be a severe monk. We are not going to have that emanation anymore—because that was just one.
Lama Trinley: When you met Rinpoche, did you know right away that you had a strong connection?
Lama Sherab: When I met Rinpoche in 1992, I was looking for a spiritual path. My first impression was that I was seeing somebody from a completely different world. I remember that I had great respect for him and also that whenever he would come into the room, I would cry. I had been very Catholic my whole life and although some of the Buddhist ideas were very different, at the same time they were very familiar to me. I really trusted that what Rinpoche said was right and true and when he gave a Tara empowerment I had a feeling this was something was really good. I didn’t understand any of what he said but the damaru, the bell, the tsok, everything just made sense to me.
We started to do Tara practice in Belo Horizonte and the next year Rinpoche came back to build a Guru Rinpoche statue there. Someone was needed to drive him and Khadro to the statue site every day. I was able to take time off from work and I understood English well enough to communicate with them. So for two weeks I drove and served them their meals every day; it was during this time that I grew close to both Khadro and Rinpoche. I really loved that. I think it was the best time I had ever had in my life. When they went on to São Paulo I decided to go along to serve them there, and that was it. I took ngondro teachings, started my ngondro and began to follow him everywhere.
When he bought this land in 1994 he asked me, “If I move to Brazil will you come to the South?” I said, “No doubt. Just tell me when you are coming and I’ll be there.” In July, 1995, Rinpoche moved here and began to develop Khadro Ling. I grew in so many ways over the next seven years. I was extremely shy, rarely spoke, and had difficulty relating to people. Working with him meant I had to do it all. I had to sit in front of 400 people and translate. What I had tried to develop through therapy, Rinpoche developed very swiftly, just by having me around him and serving him.
Some of us in the sangha were closer to him, taking care of his personal, human needs. Those that didn’t, might think, “How lucky they are to be close to him, serve him tea…” As if being close to him meant that our practice would miraculously improve. But it’s not really like that. I sometimes think that the students physically close to him are the worst ones and that they need that closeness to improve. In the past eight years I didn’t do a lot of formal practice. I was not always able to keep my mind focused or cultivate pure motivation. I was not always able to see the illusory quality of everything. Sometimes the gonpa seemed very solid and I created nonvirtue by believing in this solidity. So, just being near Rinpoche doesn’t necessarily mean enlightenment. To serve him creates merit but it doesn’t excuse us from the need to change our mental habits—to practice in order to progress.
The longer I knew him the more I saw his great compassion, generosity, and patience with his students. Sometimes I had trouble understanding how he could keep listening to certain difficult people. I had little patience translating and wondered how he could be so patient. But when I realized that it came from his compassion and generosity it helped me to have more patience.
I was not always able to say yes to Rinpoche. Sometimes I would fight. Sometimes it was difficult to do what he asked me to, but deep inside, in a more subtle way, I never doubted that he was the answer to everything that I’ve searched for, that he could lead me to spiritual realization. It was a gift of life to meet him and be with him. To be able to translate for and serve him was my good karma—maybe his bad karma, ripening. For me, nothing better could have happened.
I think sometimes Rinpoche was a little concerned about who would support Khadro because he knew he was going to go before her. I always told him, “I think I am tied to both you and Khadro. There is no place to go, nothing else to do.” So there was this very strong karmic connection not just with him but with her as well.
Lama Trinley: When Rinpoche moved to Brazil, I asked Khadro how Rinpoche would finance his projects there. And she said, “Rinpoche has never worried about money because whenever he needs it, it comes.”
Lama Sherab: When we started the Lha Khang we didn’t even have the money to finish it but it just kept coming. It was really amazing, his merit. And now here at Khadro Ling we have this big place, full of people.
We usually have many visitors at Khadro Ling on Sunday afternoon. Last Sunday, I happened to look out at the stupas and the temple and as I did so, I put myself in the place of a tourist—a non-Buddhist person living in this part of Brazil—and I had the thought, “This is a really nice place.” For people coming here who have never been exposed to Buddhism this is something really wonderful, because it is so completely different. Rinpoche gave this gift to Brazilians.
Lama Trinley: I had always looked at tourism here in a very ordinary way, but now, I think I understand what Rinpoche was doing in making Khadro Ling so accessible to the Brazilian public through media coverage and tourism.
Lama Sherab: That was what he wanted to do—to provide people with some connection. Now the thought is to put some of Rinpoche’s relics in the Guru Rinpoche Palace. The people from town were very sad when Rinpoche’s body was taken to Nepal. So I think for his relics to come back to Khadro Ling—to Brazil—is going to be a big deal. It’s going to be nice.
Lama Trinley: How do you feel you can best serve Rinpoche at this time?
Lama Sherab: When he was in retreat the month before he left, I asked him, “Rinpoche, how are we going to hold all of this—all your activities?” He said, “Just do practice. That’s all you need to do, your practice.”
