Lama Shenpen Drolma is the founder and resident lama of Iron Knot Ranch in New Mexico.
For all too brief a time, I served as one of Chagdud Rinpoche’s interpreters, traveling with him as he turned the wheel of dharma in various corners of the world. This was before the advent of email and cell phones, and keeping up with his ongoing activity while we were on the road involved a tangle of fax and message machines.
Once, during a retreat in Brazil, after a long day of teachings and interviews, Rinpoche woke me late in the night. “Someone called my name. Somebody needs me. I don’t know who it is.” He didn’t tell me how he knew this but asked if I would check: Had there been any messages? Who was it that needed him? After a series of calls, I was unable to find out anything, so he sat up most of the night doing practice for someone whose face he couldn’t see but who had nonetheless called out to him in a moment of need. This is only one instance of many, but it has stayed with me over the years. I never once saw Rinpoche ignore a cry for help or overlook even the smallest opportunity to serve others. I think it would have been impossible for him to do so. Caring for sentient beings, quite simply, was his life.
On more than one occasion, he said that he aspired to follow the life example of Kyabjé Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche, one of his beloved teachers, whose door was open twenty four hours a day. Chagdud Rinpoche would get up in the early morning hours to begin his practice, meet with students in person or by phone before formal teaching sessions, and conduct interviews during the breaks and on late into the night, often regal ing us with old Tibetan folktales and dharma stories of wandering yogis and lineage masters. Then he would finish his practice and rest for a few hours at most before beginning all over again. He did this in town after town. Back home at Rigdzin Ling, he would continue on the same schedule, never missing a beat. It wasn’t that his health was perfect or that it was easy for him to do so, but that he was nourished by bodhichitta rather than exhausted by hope and fear.
Rinpoche often said that airports were his favorite place to meditate. He would sit in a busy terminal, making eye contact with every being in the passing stream of travelers, never separate from the realization of the fleeting nature of the phenomena unfolding before him. His mala never stopped moving. One could almost feel the power of his simultaneous generation and dedication of merit manifesting for passersby in a chance meeting or exchange. Convenience stores, gas stations, and restaurants along the way were no exception. On an occasional trip to the zoo or aquarium, he would stand before a glass tank or a cage, reciting prayers. It seemed as if those beings knew he was reaching out to them. Returning home, Rinpoche never failed to pick up occasional hitchhikers, gently chiding them about the dangers of hitchhiking and inviting them to the Gonpa. Some stayed a night or camped for several days before moving on. A few returned months or even years later and helped with this or that project. For us, it’s likely impossible to comprehend the extent and subtlety of such activity as he engaged in it, but I have no doubt that in each of these encounters, a door to liberation was opened for another sentient being.
At Rigdzin Ling, Rinpoche would begin another series of teachings or perhaps launch preparations for a drupchen, delighting in the skillful means of the Vajrayana for gathering merit and wisdom. Rinpoche always found a way for everyone to join in the activity. Whether by attending an event, phoning in butter lamp dedications from three thousand miles away, stitching a costume, running errands, chopping vegetables, taking out the garbage, fix ing, building, moving—there was always something for people to do, even if they were just passing through. He made room for everyone and, in so doing, invited all into the mandala of accumulation.
Through his tireless creation of rupas (representations of enlightened body, speech, and mind), he manifested immeasurable benefit for those who worked alongside him as well as for those who would see, touch, or remember a statue, prayer wheel, or stupa. He dedicated this boundless merit to those he met while on the road, as well as to those who fell outside his reach, those who couldn’t hear the words of the teachings or participate in the building of a pure land, so that every sentient being was held within the scope of his compassionate activity.
When I think of Rinpoche’s life, I’m reminded of his mother's dream early in her pregnancy with him. She saw a being with many arms, each holding a different implement, emblematic of the countless avenues of enlightened activity his emanation would undertake. Now, though his physical form is no longer apparent to our obscured vision, the radiance of his enlightened intention continues to manifest. Until his tulku returns to us, we can find Rinpoche in each of the purely motivated actions of body, speech, and mind his lamas and sangha undertake, as we collectively and individually endeavor to practice the teachings that were his heart’s gift to us. The rain of Rinpoche’s blessings falls wherever we tend to the seeds he planted, whether we stumble or stand firmly in our efforts to do so. Rinpoche is ever present: when we pick ourselves up, having tripped over a habit for the thousandth time, when we move past our discouragement, or when we carry on in spite of it. His encouragement to “keep going” is his embrace.
It is the singular kindness of the buddha or bodhisattva in extending his hand to us that determines whether we drift endlessly in the ocean of suffering or are established on the path of liberation. When we shy away from undertaking practice or activity on behalf of numberless sentient beings, we might consider the depths of misery that we experienced as reality before the hook of the lama’s compassion pulled us from that sea.
It was Rinpoche’s intention that not a single being remain bound to suffering. He broke samsaric chains with every possible skillful means. To those who would fulfill the most minimal commitments, he opened the door to the nature of mind itself. He imparted instructions and created environments in which to retreat. He unlocked the treasury of Vajrayana empowerment and ritual. He demonstrated the method and purpose for the creation of rupas. He launched an epic series of translations and publications that serve practitioners far beyond the reaches of Chagdud Gonpa. He created residential centers for those wishing to immerse themselves in purification and accumulation by upholding ceaseless dharma activity that provides opportunities for the larger sangha to join together to partake of the expanse of skillful means. For those committed to uprooting suffering but disheartened by a poverty of method, he created the Bodhisattva Peace Training, opening the treasury of the bodhisattva path to those of all faiths. Through the dedication of this vast accumulation of merit, he added oil to the lamp, dispelling darkness for all beings in these degenerating times. Throughout every moment of his activity, he displayed the conduct of a consummate yogi, taking all circumstances as practice, an opportunity to refine his awareness of inner and outer display inseparable from mind’s nature.
One last remembrance: the gentle and delicate mudra with which Rinpoche removed an ant from his robe and placed it on a petal. No contrivance. No fear of samsara, no longing for nirvana. No separation between him and this fragile sentient being. A simple mudra of kindness and care.
Mudra is the display of awareness and of the compassionate means that arise inseparably from that awareness. “Outwardly, work ceaselessly for the benefit of beings; inwardly, rest in the flawless expanse of mind’s nature.” This was Rinpoche’s mudra, displayed for every living being. Only the spontaneous expression of love and compassion, without judgment or bias, wanting that each of us abandon the causes of suffering and accomplish the path of liberation.
May the sphere of benefit of Rinpoche’s activity only increase. May his tulku be recognized swiftly and trained without impediment. May all beings benefit.
Lama Shenpen Drolma is the founder and resident lama of Iron Knot Ranch in New Mexico.
For all too brief a time, I served as one of Chagdud Rinpoche’s interpreters, traveling with him as he turned the wheel of dharma in various corners of the world. This was before the advent of email and cell phones, and keeping up with his ongoing activity while we were on the road involved a tangle of fax and message machines.
Once, during a retreat in Brazil, after a long day of teachings and interviews, Rinpoche woke me late in the night. “Someone called my name. Somebody needs me. I don’t know who it is.” He didn’t tell me how he knew this but asked if I would check: Had there been any messages? Who was it that needed him? After a series of calls, I was unable to find out anything, so he sat up most of the night doing practice for someone whose face he couldn’t see but who had nonetheless called out to him in a moment of need. This is only one instance of many, but it has stayed with me over the years. I never once saw Rinpoche ignore a cry for help or overlook even the smallest opportunity to serve others. I think it would have been impossible for him to do so. Caring for sentient beings, quite simply, was his life.
On more than one occasion, he said that he aspired to follow the life example of Kyabjé Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche, one of his beloved teachers, whose door was open twenty four hours a day. Chagdud Rinpoche would get up in the early morning hours to begin his practice, meet with students in person or by phone before formal teaching sessions, and conduct interviews during the breaks and on late into the night, often regal ing us with old Tibetan folktales and dharma stories of wandering yogis and lineage masters. Then he would finish his practice and rest for a few hours at most before beginning all over again. He did this in town after town. Back home at Rigdzin Ling, he would continue on the same schedule, never missing a beat. It wasn’t that his health was perfect or that it was easy for him to do so, but that he was nourished by bodhichitta rather than exhausted by hope and fear.
Rinpoche often said that airports were his favorite place to meditate. He would sit in a busy terminal, making eye contact with every being in the passing stream of travelers, never separate from the realization of the fleeting nature of the phenomena unfolding before him. His mala never stopped moving. One could almost feel the power of his simultaneous generation and dedication of merit manifesting for passersby in a chance meeting or exchange. Convenience stores, gas stations, and restaurants along the way were no exception. On an occasional trip to the zoo or aquarium, he would stand before a glass tank or a cage, reciting prayers. It seemed as if those beings knew he was reaching out to them. Returning home, Rinpoche never failed to pick up occasional hitchhikers, gently chiding them about the dangers of hitchhiking and inviting them to the Gonpa. Some stayed a night or camped for several days before moving on. A few returned months or even years later and helped with this or that project. For us, it’s likely impossible to comprehend the extent and subtlety of such activity as he engaged in it, but I have no doubt that in each of these encounters, a door to liberation was opened for another sentient being.
At Rigdzin Ling, Rinpoche would begin another series of teachings or perhaps launch preparations for a drupchen, delighting in the skillful means of the Vajrayana for gathering merit and wisdom. Rinpoche always found a way for everyone to join in the activity. Whether by attending an event, phoning in butter lamp dedications from three thousand miles away, stitching a costume, running errands, chopping vegetables, taking out the garbage, fix ing, building, moving—there was always something for people to do, even if they were just passing through. He made room for everyone and, in so doing, invited all into the mandala of accumulation.
Through his tireless creation of rupas (representations of enlightened body, speech, and mind), he manifested immeasurable benefit for those who worked alongside him as well as for those who would see, touch, or remember a statue, prayer wheel, or stupa. He dedicated this boundless merit to those he met while on the road, as well as to those who fell outside his reach, those who couldn’t hear the words of the teachings or participate in the building of a pure land, so that every sentient being was held within the scope of his compassionate activity.
When I think of Rinpoche’s life, I’m reminded of his mother's dream early in her pregnancy with him. She saw a being with many arms, each holding a different implement, emblematic of the countless avenues of enlightened activity his emanation would undertake. Now, though his physical form is no longer apparent to our obscured vision, the radiance of his enlightened intention continues to manifest. Until his tulku returns to us, we can find Rinpoche in each of the purely motivated actions of body, speech, and mind his lamas and sangha undertake, as we collectively and individually endeavor to practice the teachings that were his heart’s gift to us. The rain of Rinpoche’s blessings falls wherever we tend to the seeds he planted, whether we stumble or stand firmly in our efforts to do so. Rinpoche is ever present: when we pick ourselves up, having tripped over a habit for the thousandth time, when we move past our discouragement, or when we carry on in spite of it. His encouragement to “keep going” is his embrace.
It is the singular kindness of the buddha or bodhisattva in extending his hand to us that determines whether we drift endlessly in the ocean of suffering or are established on the path of liberation. When we shy away from undertaking practice or activity on behalf of numberless sentient beings, we might consider the depths of misery that we experienced as reality before the hook of the lama’s compassion pulled us from that sea.
It was Rinpoche’s intention that not a single being remain bound to suffering. He broke samsaric chains with every possible skillful means. To those who would fulfill the most minimal commitments, he opened the door to the nature of mind itself. He imparted instructions and created environments in which to retreat. He unlocked the treasury of Vajrayana empowerment and ritual. He demonstrated the method and purpose for the creation of rupas. He launched an epic series of translations and publications that serve practitioners far beyond the reaches of Chagdud Gonpa. He created residential centers for those wishing to immerse themselves in purification and accumulation by upholding ceaseless dharma activity that provides opportunities for the larger sangha to join together to partake of the expanse of skillful means. For those committed to uprooting suffering but disheartened by a poverty of method, he created the Bodhisattva Peace Training, opening the treasury of the bodhisattva path to those of all faiths. Through the dedication of this vast accumulation of merit, he added oil to the lamp, dispelling darkness for all beings in these degenerating times. Throughout every moment of his activity, he displayed the conduct of a consummate yogi, taking all circumstances as practice, an opportunity to refine his awareness of inner and outer display inseparable from mind’s nature.
One last remembrance: the gentle and delicate mudra with which Rinpoche removed an ant from his robe and placed it on a petal. No contrivance. No fear of samsara, no longing for nirvana. No separation between him and this fragile sentient being. A simple mudra of kindness and care.
Mudra is the display of awareness and of the compassionate means that arise inseparably from that awareness. “Outwardly, work ceaselessly for the benefit of beings; inwardly, rest in the flawless expanse of mind’s nature.” This was Rinpoche’s mudra, displayed for every living being. Only the spontaneous expression of love and compassion, without judgment or bias, wanting that each of us abandon the causes of suffering and accomplish the path of liberation.
May the sphere of benefit of Rinpoche’s activity only increase. May his tulku be recognized swiftly and trained without impediment. May all beings benefit.
Lama Shenpen Drolma is the founder and resident lama of Iron Knot Ranch in New Mexico.
For all too brief a time, I served as one of Chagdud Rinpoche’s interpreters, traveling with him as he turned the wheel of dharma in various corners of the world. This was before the advent of email and cell phones, and keeping up with his ongoing activity while we were on the road involved a tangle of fax and message machines.
Once, during a retreat in Brazil, after a long day of teachings and interviews, Rinpoche woke me late in the night. “Someone called my name. Somebody needs me. I don’t know who it is.” He didn’t tell me how he knew this but asked if I would check: Had there been any messages? Who was it that needed him? After a series of calls, I was unable to find out anything, so he sat up most of the night doing practice for someone whose face he couldn’t see but who had nonetheless called out to him in a moment of need. This is only one instance of many, but it has stayed with me over the years. I never once saw Rinpoche ignore a cry for help or overlook even the smallest opportunity to serve others. I think it would have been impossible for him to do so. Caring for sentient beings, quite simply, was his life.
On more than one occasion, he said that he aspired to follow the life example of Kyabjé Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche, one of his beloved teachers, whose door was open twenty four hours a day. Chagdud Rinpoche would get up in the early morning hours to begin his practice, meet with students in person or by phone before formal teaching sessions, and conduct interviews during the breaks and on late into the night, often regal ing us with old Tibetan folktales and dharma stories of wandering yogis and lineage masters. Then he would finish his practice and rest for a few hours at most before beginning all over again. He did this in town after town. Back home at Rigdzin Ling, he would continue on the same schedule, never missing a beat. It wasn’t that his health was perfect or that it was easy for him to do so, but that he was nourished by bodhichitta rather than exhausted by hope and fear.
Rinpoche often said that airports were his favorite place to meditate. He would sit in a busy terminal, making eye contact with every being in the passing stream of travelers, never separate from the realization of the fleeting nature of the phenomena unfolding before him. His mala never stopped moving. One could almost feel the power of his simultaneous generation and dedication of merit manifesting for passersby in a chance meeting or exchange. Convenience stores, gas stations, and restaurants along the way were no exception. On an occasional trip to the zoo or aquarium, he would stand before a glass tank or a cage, reciting prayers. It seemed as if those beings knew he was reaching out to them. Returning home, Rinpoche never failed to pick up occasional hitchhikers, gently chiding them about the dangers of hitchhiking and inviting them to the Gonpa. Some stayed a night or camped for several days before moving on. A few returned months or even years later and helped with this or that project. For us, it’s likely impossible to comprehend the extent and subtlety of such activity as he engaged in it, but I have no doubt that in each of these encounters, a door to liberation was opened for another sentient being.
At Rigdzin Ling, Rinpoche would begin another series of teachings or perhaps launch preparations for a drupchen, delighting in the skillful means of the Vajrayana for gathering merit and wisdom. Rinpoche always found a way for everyone to join in the activity. Whether by attending an event, phoning in butter lamp dedications from three thousand miles away, stitching a costume, running errands, chopping vegetables, taking out the garbage, fix ing, building, moving—there was always something for people to do, even if they were just passing through. He made room for everyone and, in so doing, invited all into the mandala of accumulation.
Through his tireless creation of rupas (representations of enlightened body, speech, and mind), he manifested immeasurable benefit for those who worked alongside him as well as for those who would see, touch, or remember a statue, prayer wheel, or stupa. He dedicated this boundless merit to those he met while on the road, as well as to those who fell outside his reach, those who couldn’t hear the words of the teachings or participate in the building of a pure land, so that every sentient being was held within the scope of his compassionate activity.
When I think of Rinpoche’s life, I’m reminded of his mother's dream early in her pregnancy with him. She saw a being with many arms, each holding a different implement, emblematic of the countless avenues of enlightened activity his emanation would undertake. Now, though his physical form is no longer apparent to our obscured vision, the radiance of his enlightened intention continues to manifest. Until his tulku returns to us, we can find Rinpoche in each of the purely motivated actions of body, speech, and mind his lamas and sangha undertake, as we collectively and individually endeavor to practice the teachings that were his heart’s gift to us. The rain of Rinpoche’s blessings falls wherever we tend to the seeds he planted, whether we stumble or stand firmly in our efforts to do so. Rinpoche is ever present: when we pick ourselves up, having tripped over a habit for the thousandth time, when we move past our discouragement, or when we carry on in spite of it. His encouragement to “keep going” is his embrace.
It is the singular kindness of the buddha or bodhisattva in extending his hand to us that determines whether we drift endlessly in the ocean of suffering or are established on the path of liberation. When we shy away from undertaking practice or activity on behalf of numberless sentient beings, we might consider the depths of misery that we experienced as reality before the hook of the lama’s compassion pulled us from that sea.
It was Rinpoche’s intention that not a single being remain bound to suffering. He broke samsaric chains with every possible skillful means. To those who would fulfill the most minimal commitments, he opened the door to the nature of mind itself. He imparted instructions and created environments in which to retreat. He unlocked the treasury of Vajrayana empowerment and ritual. He demonstrated the method and purpose for the creation of rupas. He launched an epic series of translations and publications that serve practitioners far beyond the reaches of Chagdud Gonpa. He created residential centers for those wishing to immerse themselves in purification and accumulation by upholding ceaseless dharma activity that provides opportunities for the larger sangha to join together to partake of the expanse of skillful means. For those committed to uprooting suffering but disheartened by a poverty of method, he created the Bodhisattva Peace Training, opening the treasury of the bodhisattva path to those of all faiths. Through the dedication of this vast accumulation of merit, he added oil to the lamp, dispelling darkness for all beings in these degenerating times. Throughout every moment of his activity, he displayed the conduct of a consummate yogi, taking all circumstances as practice, an opportunity to refine his awareness of inner and outer display inseparable from mind’s nature.
One last remembrance: the gentle and delicate mudra with which Rinpoche removed an ant from his robe and placed it on a petal. No contrivance. No fear of samsara, no longing for nirvana. No separation between him and this fragile sentient being. A simple mudra of kindness and care.
Mudra is the display of awareness and of the compassionate means that arise inseparably from that awareness. “Outwardly, work ceaselessly for the benefit of beings; inwardly, rest in the flawless expanse of mind’s nature.” This was Rinpoche’s mudra, displayed for every living being. Only the spontaneous expression of love and compassion, without judgment or bias, wanting that each of us abandon the causes of suffering and accomplish the path of liberation.
May the sphere of benefit of Rinpoche’s activity only increase. May his tulku be recognized swiftly and trained without impediment. May all beings benefit.
Lama Shenpen Drolma is the founder and resident lama of Iron Knot Ranch in New Mexico.
For all too brief a time, I served as one of Chagdud Rinpoche’s interpreters, traveling with him as he turned the wheel of dharma in various corners of the world. This was before the advent of email and cell phones, and keeping up with his ongoing activity while we were on the road involved a tangle of fax and message machines.
Once, during a retreat in Brazil, after a long day of teachings and interviews, Rinpoche woke me late in the night. “Someone called my name. Somebody needs me. I don’t know who it is.” He didn’t tell me how he knew this but asked if I would check: Had there been any messages? Who was it that needed him? After a series of calls, I was unable to find out anything, so he sat up most of the night doing practice for someone whose face he couldn’t see but who had nonetheless called out to him in a moment of need. This is only one instance of many, but it has stayed with me over the years. I never once saw Rinpoche ignore a cry for help or overlook even the smallest opportunity to serve others. I think it would have been impossible for him to do so. Caring for sentient beings, quite simply, was his life.
On more than one occasion, he said that he aspired to follow the life example of Kyabjé Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche, one of his beloved teachers, whose door was open twenty four hours a day. Chagdud Rinpoche would get up in the early morning hours to begin his practice, meet with students in person or by phone before formal teaching sessions, and conduct interviews during the breaks and on late into the night, often regal ing us with old Tibetan folktales and dharma stories of wandering yogis and lineage masters. Then he would finish his practice and rest for a few hours at most before beginning all over again. He did this in town after town. Back home at Rigdzin Ling, he would continue on the same schedule, never missing a beat. It wasn’t that his health was perfect or that it was easy for him to do so, but that he was nourished by bodhichitta rather than exhausted by hope and fear.
Rinpoche often said that airports were his favorite place to meditate. He would sit in a busy terminal, making eye contact with every being in the passing stream of travelers, never separate from the realization of the fleeting nature of the phenomena unfolding before him. His mala never stopped moving. One could almost feel the power of his simultaneous generation and dedication of merit manifesting for passersby in a chance meeting or exchange. Convenience stores, gas stations, and restaurants along the way were no exception. On an occasional trip to the zoo or aquarium, he would stand before a glass tank or a cage, reciting prayers. It seemed as if those beings knew he was reaching out to them. Returning home, Rinpoche never failed to pick up occasional hitchhikers, gently chiding them about the dangers of hitchhiking and inviting them to the Gonpa. Some stayed a night or camped for several days before moving on. A few returned months or even years later and helped with this or that project. For us, it’s likely impossible to comprehend the extent and subtlety of such activity as he engaged in it, but I have no doubt that in each of these encounters, a door to liberation was opened for another sentient being.
At Rigdzin Ling, Rinpoche would begin another series of teachings or perhaps launch preparations for a drupchen, delighting in the skillful means of the Vajrayana for gathering merit and wisdom. Rinpoche always found a way for everyone to join in the activity. Whether by attending an event, phoning in butter lamp dedications from three thousand miles away, stitching a costume, running errands, chopping vegetables, taking out the garbage, fix ing, building, moving—there was always something for people to do, even if they were just passing through. He made room for everyone and, in so doing, invited all into the mandala of accumulation.
Through his tireless creation of rupas (representations of enlightened body, speech, and mind), he manifested immeasurable benefit for those who worked alongside him as well as for those who would see, touch, or remember a statue, prayer wheel, or stupa. He dedicated this boundless merit to those he met while on the road, as well as to those who fell outside his reach, those who couldn’t hear the words of the teachings or participate in the building of a pure land, so that every sentient being was held within the scope of his compassionate activity.
When I think of Rinpoche’s life, I’m reminded of his mother's dream early in her pregnancy with him. She saw a being with many arms, each holding a different implement, emblematic of the countless avenues of enlightened activity his emanation would undertake. Now, though his physical form is no longer apparent to our obscured vision, the radiance of his enlightened intention continues to manifest. Until his tulku returns to us, we can find Rinpoche in each of the purely motivated actions of body, speech, and mind his lamas and sangha undertake, as we collectively and individually endeavor to practice the teachings that were his heart’s gift to us. The rain of Rinpoche’s blessings falls wherever we tend to the seeds he planted, whether we stumble or stand firmly in our efforts to do so. Rinpoche is ever present: when we pick ourselves up, having tripped over a habit for the thousandth time, when we move past our discouragement, or when we carry on in spite of it. His encouragement to “keep going” is his embrace.
It is the singular kindness of the buddha or bodhisattva in extending his hand to us that determines whether we drift endlessly in the ocean of suffering or are established on the path of liberation. When we shy away from undertaking practice or activity on behalf of numberless sentient beings, we might consider the depths of misery that we experienced as reality before the hook of the lama’s compassion pulled us from that sea.
It was Rinpoche’s intention that not a single being remain bound to suffering. He broke samsaric chains with every possible skillful means. To those who would fulfill the most minimal commitments, he opened the door to the nature of mind itself. He imparted instructions and created environments in which to retreat. He unlocked the treasury of Vajrayana empowerment and ritual. He demonstrated the method and purpose for the creation of rupas. He launched an epic series of translations and publications that serve practitioners far beyond the reaches of Chagdud Gonpa. He created residential centers for those wishing to immerse themselves in purification and accumulation by upholding ceaseless dharma activity that provides opportunities for the larger sangha to join together to partake of the expanse of skillful means. For those committed to uprooting suffering but disheartened by a poverty of method, he created the Bodhisattva Peace Training, opening the treasury of the bodhisattva path to those of all faiths. Through the dedication of this vast accumulation of merit, he added oil to the lamp, dispelling darkness for all beings in these degenerating times. Throughout every moment of his activity, he displayed the conduct of a consummate yogi, taking all circumstances as practice, an opportunity to refine his awareness of inner and outer display inseparable from mind’s nature.
One last remembrance: the gentle and delicate mudra with which Rinpoche removed an ant from his robe and placed it on a petal. No contrivance. No fear of samsara, no longing for nirvana. No separation between him and this fragile sentient being. A simple mudra of kindness and care.
Mudra is the display of awareness and of the compassionate means that arise inseparably from that awareness. “Outwardly, work ceaselessly for the benefit of beings; inwardly, rest in the flawless expanse of mind’s nature.” This was Rinpoche’s mudra, displayed for every living being. Only the spontaneous expression of love and compassion, without judgment or bias, wanting that each of us abandon the causes of suffering and accomplish the path of liberation.
May the sphere of benefit of Rinpoche’s activity only increase. May his tulku be recognized swiftly and trained without impediment. May all beings benefit.
Lama Shenpen Drolma is the founder and resident lama of Iron Knot Ranch in New Mexico.
For all too brief a time, I served as one of Chagdud Rinpoche’s interpreters, traveling with him as he turned the wheel of dharma in various corners of the world. This was before the advent of email and cell phones, and keeping up with his ongoing activity while we were on the road involved a tangle of fax and message machines.
Once, during a retreat in Brazil, after a long day of teachings and interviews, Rinpoche woke me late in the night. “Someone called my name. Somebody needs me. I don’t know who it is.” He didn’t tell me how he knew this but asked if I would check: Had there been any messages? Who was it that needed him? After a series of calls, I was unable to find out anything, so he sat up most of the night doing practice for someone whose face he couldn’t see but who had nonetheless called out to him in a moment of need. This is only one instance of many, but it has stayed with me over the years. I never once saw Rinpoche ignore a cry for help or overlook even the smallest opportunity to serve others. I think it would have been impossible for him to do so. Caring for sentient beings, quite simply, was his life.
On more than one occasion, he said that he aspired to follow the life example of Kyabjé Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche, one of his beloved teachers, whose door was open twenty four hours a day. Chagdud Rinpoche would get up in the early morning hours to begin his practice, meet with students in person or by phone before formal teaching sessions, and conduct interviews during the breaks and on late into the night, often regal ing us with old Tibetan folktales and dharma stories of wandering yogis and lineage masters. Then he would finish his practice and rest for a few hours at most before beginning all over again. He did this in town after town. Back home at Rigdzin Ling, he would continue on the same schedule, never missing a beat. It wasn’t that his health was perfect or that it was easy for him to do so, but that he was nourished by bodhichitta rather than exhausted by hope and fear.
Rinpoche often said that airports were his favorite place to meditate. He would sit in a busy terminal, making eye contact with every being in the passing stream of travelers, never separate from the realization of the fleeting nature of the phenomena unfolding before him. His mala never stopped moving. One could almost feel the power of his simultaneous generation and dedication of merit manifesting for passersby in a chance meeting or exchange. Convenience stores, gas stations, and restaurants along the way were no exception. On an occasional trip to the zoo or aquarium, he would stand before a glass tank or a cage, reciting prayers. It seemed as if those beings knew he was reaching out to them. Returning home, Rinpoche never failed to pick up occasional hitchhikers, gently chiding them about the dangers of hitchhiking and inviting them to the Gonpa. Some stayed a night or camped for several days before moving on. A few returned months or even years later and helped with this or that project. For us, it’s likely impossible to comprehend the extent and subtlety of such activity as he engaged in it, but I have no doubt that in each of these encounters, a door to liberation was opened for another sentient being.
At Rigdzin Ling, Rinpoche would begin another series of teachings or perhaps launch preparations for a drupchen, delighting in the skillful means of the Vajrayana for gathering merit and wisdom. Rinpoche always found a way for everyone to join in the activity. Whether by attending an event, phoning in butter lamp dedications from three thousand miles away, stitching a costume, running errands, chopping vegetables, taking out the garbage, fix ing, building, moving—there was always something for people to do, even if they were just passing through. He made room for everyone and, in so doing, invited all into the mandala of accumulation.
Through his tireless creation of rupas (representations of enlightened body, speech, and mind), he manifested immeasurable benefit for those who worked alongside him as well as for those who would see, touch, or remember a statue, prayer wheel, or stupa. He dedicated this boundless merit to those he met while on the road, as well as to those who fell outside his reach, those who couldn’t hear the words of the teachings or participate in the building of a pure land, so that every sentient being was held within the scope of his compassionate activity.
When I think of Rinpoche’s life, I’m reminded of his mother's dream early in her pregnancy with him. She saw a being with many arms, each holding a different implement, emblematic of the countless avenues of enlightened activity his emanation would undertake. Now, though his physical form is no longer apparent to our obscured vision, the radiance of his enlightened intention continues to manifest. Until his tulku returns to us, we can find Rinpoche in each of the purely motivated actions of body, speech, and mind his lamas and sangha undertake, as we collectively and individually endeavor to practice the teachings that were his heart’s gift to us. The rain of Rinpoche’s blessings falls wherever we tend to the seeds he planted, whether we stumble or stand firmly in our efforts to do so. Rinpoche is ever present: when we pick ourselves up, having tripped over a habit for the thousandth time, when we move past our discouragement, or when we carry on in spite of it. His encouragement to “keep going” is his embrace.
It is the singular kindness of the buddha or bodhisattva in extending his hand to us that determines whether we drift endlessly in the ocean of suffering or are established on the path of liberation. When we shy away from undertaking practice or activity on behalf of numberless sentient beings, we might consider the depths of misery that we experienced as reality before the hook of the lama’s compassion pulled us from that sea.
It was Rinpoche’s intention that not a single being remain bound to suffering. He broke samsaric chains with every possible skillful means. To those who would fulfill the most minimal commitments, he opened the door to the nature of mind itself. He imparted instructions and created environments in which to retreat. He unlocked the treasury of Vajrayana empowerment and ritual. He demonstrated the method and purpose for the creation of rupas. He launched an epic series of translations and publications that serve practitioners far beyond the reaches of Chagdud Gonpa. He created residential centers for those wishing to immerse themselves in purification and accumulation by upholding ceaseless dharma activity that provides opportunities for the larger sangha to join together to partake of the expanse of skillful means. For those committed to uprooting suffering but disheartened by a poverty of method, he created the Bodhisattva Peace Training, opening the treasury of the bodhisattva path to those of all faiths. Through the dedication of this vast accumulation of merit, he added oil to the lamp, dispelling darkness for all beings in these degenerating times. Throughout every moment of his activity, he displayed the conduct of a consummate yogi, taking all circumstances as practice, an opportunity to refine his awareness of inner and outer display inseparable from mind’s nature.
One last remembrance: the gentle and delicate mudra with which Rinpoche removed an ant from his robe and placed it on a petal. No contrivance. No fear of samsara, no longing for nirvana. No separation between him and this fragile sentient being. A simple mudra of kindness and care.
Mudra is the display of awareness and of the compassionate means that arise inseparably from that awareness. “Outwardly, work ceaselessly for the benefit of beings; inwardly, rest in the flawless expanse of mind’s nature.” This was Rinpoche’s mudra, displayed for every living being. Only the spontaneous expression of love and compassion, without judgment or bias, wanting that each of us abandon the causes of suffering and accomplish the path of liberation.
May the sphere of benefit of Rinpoche’s activity only increase. May his tulku be recognized swiftly and trained without impediment. May all beings benefit.
