Karma is infallible in that virtuous actions inevitably result in positive experiences and non virtuous actions lead to negative experiences. Still, it is not always easy to understand why a particular life is cut short or sustained. Because we are not omniscient buddhas, someone’s karma is not obvious to us. But as Buddhists committed to a path of harmlessness and helpfulness, we will naturally want to save a being whose life is threatened.
In our daily lives, no matter how careful we try to be, we inadvertently take the lives of many beings. H.E. Chagdud Rinpoche often speaks of the vast number of insects that are killed in the production of just one cup of tea. Saving life is one of the most meritorious acts we can engage in. The karmic consequence of doing so is to extend one’s life span. If such an act is purely motivated and the virtue is dedicated to the enlightenment of all beings, then the blessings will be swift and powerful, extending throughout space. Over the years, our sangha has repeatedly practiced saving animals’ lives and dedicating the merit to the longevity of our lama, Chagdud Rinpoche.
Chagdud Khadro shared some of her experiences of this practice with the Windhorse: “In 1991, at Chagdud Gonpa in Tibet, I was standing outside the lha khang and noticed several yaks tied up with their ears marked. Troubled by what I took as a sign of their immediate demise, I began to recite Amitabha and Avalokiteshvara mantras for them and asked Rinpoche to pray as well. Instead, he explained that the marks indicated that these animals would not be slaughtered, that their lives had been ransomed and the merit dedicated to his own longevity. He said that this was not an offering made casually by owners of great herds, but one made by people who had a few animals and would go without meat and a substantial part of their income because of their offering. Deeply moved, I added my prayers to theirs, that the merit of saving these lives would multiply ceaselessly and bring great fortune to each donor lifetime after lifetime.”
While the practice of saving lives is common in Tibet, where the lives of domestic animals are regularly ransomed, the concept may seem somewhat strange to Westerners. If you buy a large quantity of doomed worms, crickets, or bait fish, it is likely you will be asked what you plan to do with them. The individuals we spoke with for this article observed a wide range of reactions in the merchants they purchased beings from, including surprise, disbelief, anger, rejoicing, enthusiasm, or an interesting mix of these. So beyond the saving of life, this practice has the potential to turn the minds of others toward compassion, or at the least to expose them to a different way of perceiving sentient beings, neither of which is a small accomplishment.
The T’hondup Ling sangha in Los Angeles, under the direction of Lama Chödak Gyatso, releases fish regularly at Marina del Rey. Last year, the owner of a bait company was so impressed by the practice that he offered to release an extra net of fish for every one the sangha purchased, making it possible to save twice as many beings.
According to Veronica Miller, “Sometimes fishermen pull up to the dock in their motorboats to buy bait. Seeing twenty people surrounding a Tibetan lama, praying over a net full of little fish, probably comes as some surprise. But it must affect them, however subtly.”
Chagdud Khadro spoke about an earlier fish release: “In 1981, when Rinpoche’s life seemed quite tenuous, his students in Santa Barbara sponsored a fish release. Some of the bait sellers were insulted when they learned that the fish and crustaceans would not be used for bait and actually refused to sell them. Some, however, cooperated fully, and seemed to enjoy participating in a life-affirming activity. In addition to the small bait, we purchased some lobsters and crabs and went out on a fishing boat to release them in an appropriate environment. One lobster in particular Rinpoche fervently prayed over at length, making the aspiration that this benighted being would someday become a Dzogchen master. At the time I found it a little far-fetched; now I expect I could meet this creature again in some future lifetime and prostrate to it as a rigdzin—a master of awareness.”
Julianna Balistieri, a resident of Rigdzin Ling, said she walked into a fishing shop on Balboa Island to buy some bait fish to release. The owner offered to give her a few anchovies, but he said, “They are still going to die eventually.” She replied, “We all will, but perhaps they might live a little longer.” At a nearby dock, not far from some Vietnamese fishermen, Julianna released the fish and sat briefly praying for them. When she looked up, she saw one of the fishermen watching. He smiled at her and folded his hands in prayer. It seemed that, having come from a Buddhist country, the idea of saving life was not at all foreign to him.
The practice of saving life had an auspicious beginning at Iron Knot Ranch when Susan Baldwin ransomed the life of a particularly spirited cow, now affectionately known as “Lady,” who was supposed to be shipped off to auction the day the sangha took possession of the ranch. According to Michael Bradfute, Susan offered to pay for her when “Lady leaped the loading ramp fence at the last possible moment and took off for the hills, no small feat, for as it turned out, she was with child. . . . About two months later, and on a Tara Day no less, we ran into Lady on the side of Crystal Mountain. I don’t know who was more surprised to see who when out from behind her stumbled Spot, prettiest little bull you ever did see.”
This fall, Iron Knot Ranch invited individuals to participate in a “Cattle Drive,” which resulted in the ransom and release of ten heifer calves, who will live out their lives free of the fear of the slaughterhouse. Two new horses were also acquired (escaping the more traditional means of being retired) and are now companions of the previously lonely equine Norbu. These Iron Knot newcomers join Lady and Spot, an unconfirmed number of dogs (the most well known being Yeshe, a stray rescued by Don Delaquil from an L.A. freeway), two cats, and several goldfish
(refugees from a Walmart “feeder fish” aquarium) in the cool shade of the lama’s blessings.
Chagdud Khadro recounted some of the Brazilian sangha’s life-saving efforts: “In 1996 we saved a pig, who is now enormous, and allowed the first of a pack of about a dozen street dogs to take up permanent residence. The worst looking, Gina, an abused female with one eye and paps hanging down to the ground, has the finest, bravest character. Rinpoche never looks at her without rejoicing that she has survived and found a comfortable haven here. This year, deeply concerned about Rinpoche’s health, we recklessly organized the purchase of ducks, geese, guinea fowl, and roosters, all of whom were slated for sacrifice by black magic practitioners—there’s a market for such animals in Brazil. It is alarming to survey these flocks and contemplate their potential for rampant propagation. Twelve little ducklings have already appeared. But Rinpoche doesn’t worry. He only wants them well cared for, and to that end he is sponsoring the construction of a barn.”
There are times that we simply can’t save a life, but that too becomes practice. While living in Nepal recently, Paloma Lopez was moved by the suffering of animals being sacrificed there: “When a couple of the nuns and I went down into the town of Parping, just minutes away from the Ani Gonpa, we saw hundreds of hot, thirsty goats tied up waiting to be sold for sacrifice. We bought a couple and took them up to the gonpa, but all we could do to ease the suffering of the others was to give them water with dutzi in it.
Julianna spoke about a wounded cat she found on a highway and took to an emergency veterinary hospital. The vet did not think the cat would survive— even with emergency treatment, which in any case Julianna could not afford. She sat crying in the room with the dying cat, wishing there were more she could do. She prayed to the lama that there would be some benefit from the connection she had made with the cat.
It really comes down to guru yoga. We need to pray to the lama for the purest intention. We might feel attached to helping other beings— even proud. But our own minds are so small. If only we can access the lama’s vast mind, it will help us to understand the karma and interdependence of all beings.
Samsara is such that for every being we may save there are countless others we cannot. And impermanence is such that all beings will eventually die. So it may seem that our efforts have no more effect than a drop of water in the ocean. But the real power of such practice lies in our selfless dedication of the merit to the longevity of our lama. Even if we do not feel that our own practice will ease the suffering of others, we have felt the power of the lama’s blessings— the lama’s ability to turn people’s minds to the dharma— an extraordinary accomplishment. By praying that the life and activities of the lama will flourish, we ensure that many others will have the fortune to make a connection with an authentic teacher and gain the potential to attain enlightenment, so that all of samsara will be emptied.
Lama Trinley
Karma is infallible in that virtuous actions inevitably result in positive experiences and non virtuous actions lead to negative experiences. Still, it is not always easy to understand why a particular life is cut short or sustained. Because we are not omniscient buddhas, someone’s karma is not obvious to us. But as Buddhists committed to a path of harmlessness and helpfulness, we will naturally want to save a being whose life is threatened.
In our daily lives, no matter how careful we try to be, we inadvertently take the lives of many beings. H.E. Chagdud Rinpoche often speaks of the vast number of insects that are killed in the production of just one cup of tea. Saving life is one of the most meritorious acts we can engage in. The karmic consequence of doing so is to extend one’s life span. If such an act is purely motivated and the virtue is dedicated to the enlightenment of all beings, then the blessings will be swift and powerful, extending throughout space. Over the years, our sangha has repeatedly practiced saving animals’ lives and dedicating the merit to the longevity of our lama, Chagdud Rinpoche.
Chagdud Khadro shared some of her experiences of this practice with the Windhorse: “In 1991, at Chagdud Gonpa in Tibet, I was standing outside the lha khang and noticed several yaks tied up with their ears marked. Troubled by what I took as a sign of their immediate demise, I began to recite Amitabha and Avalokiteshvara mantras for them and asked Rinpoche to pray as well. Instead, he explained that the marks indicated that these animals would not be slaughtered, that their lives had been ransomed and the merit dedicated to his own longevity. He said that this was not an offering made casually by owners of great herds, but one made by people who had a few animals and would go without meat and a substantial part of their income because of their offering. Deeply moved, I added my prayers to theirs, that the merit of saving these lives would multiply ceaselessly and bring great fortune to each donor lifetime after lifetime.”
While the practice of saving lives is common in Tibet, where the lives of domestic animals are regularly ransomed, the concept may seem somewhat strange to Westerners. If you buy a large quantity of doomed worms, crickets, or bait fish, it is likely you will be asked what you plan to do with them. The individuals we spoke with for this article observed a wide range of reactions in the merchants they purchased beings from, including surprise, disbelief, anger, rejoicing, enthusiasm, or an interesting mix of these. So beyond the saving of life, this practice has the potential to turn the minds of others toward compassion, or at the least to expose them to a different way of perceiving sentient beings, neither of which is a small accomplishment.
The T’hondup Ling sangha in Los Angeles, under the direction of Lama Chödak Gyatso, releases fish regularly at Marina del Rey. Last year, the owner of a bait company was so impressed by the practice that he offered to release an extra net of fish for every one the sangha purchased, making it possible to save twice as many beings.
According to Veronica Miller, “Sometimes fishermen pull up to the dock in their motorboats to buy bait. Seeing twenty people surrounding a Tibetan lama, praying over a net full of little fish, probably comes as some surprise. But it must affect them, however subtly.”
Chagdud Khadro spoke about an earlier fish release: “In 1981, when Rinpoche’s life seemed quite tenuous, his students in Santa Barbara sponsored a fish release. Some of the bait sellers were insulted when they learned that the fish and crustaceans would not be used for bait and actually refused to sell them. Some, however, cooperated fully, and seemed to enjoy participating in a life-affirming activity. In addition to the small bait, we purchased some lobsters and crabs and went out on a fishing boat to release them in an appropriate environment. One lobster in particular Rinpoche fervently prayed over at length, making the aspiration that this benighted being would someday become a Dzogchen master. At the time I found it a little far-fetched; now I expect I could meet this creature again in some future lifetime and prostrate to it as a rigdzin—a master of awareness.”
Julianna Balistieri, a resident of Rigdzin Ling, said she walked into a fishing shop on Balboa Island to buy some bait fish to release. The owner offered to give her a few anchovies, but he said, “They are still going to die eventually.” She replied, “We all will, but perhaps they might live a little longer.” At a nearby dock, not far from some Vietnamese fishermen, Julianna released the fish and sat briefly praying for them. When she looked up, she saw one of the fishermen watching. He smiled at her and folded his hands in prayer. It seemed that, having come from a Buddhist country, the idea of saving life was not at all foreign to him.
The practice of saving life had an auspicious beginning at Iron Knot Ranch when Susan Baldwin ransomed the life of a particularly spirited cow, now affectionately known as “Lady,” who was supposed to be shipped off to auction the day the sangha took possession of the ranch. According to Michael Bradfute, Susan offered to pay for her when “Lady leaped the loading ramp fence at the last possible moment and took off for the hills, no small feat, for as it turned out, she was with child. . . . About two months later, and on a Tara Day no less, we ran into Lady on the side of Crystal Mountain. I don’t know who was more surprised to see who when out from behind her stumbled Spot, prettiest little bull you ever did see.”
This fall, Iron Knot Ranch invited individuals to participate in a “Cattle Drive,” which resulted in the ransom and release of ten heifer calves, who will live out their lives free of the fear of the slaughterhouse. Two new horses were also acquired (escaping the more traditional means of being retired) and are now companions of the previously lonely equine Norbu. These Iron Knot newcomers join Lady and Spot, an unconfirmed number of dogs (the most well known being Yeshe, a stray rescued by Don Delaquil from an L.A. freeway), two cats, and several goldfish
(refugees from a Walmart “feeder fish” aquarium) in the cool shade of the lama’s blessings.
Chagdud Khadro recounted some of the Brazilian sangha’s life-saving efforts: “In 1996 we saved a pig, who is now enormous, and allowed the first of a pack of about a dozen street dogs to take up permanent residence. The worst looking, Gina, an abused female with one eye and paps hanging down to the ground, has the finest, bravest character. Rinpoche never looks at her without rejoicing that she has survived and found a comfortable haven here. This year, deeply concerned about Rinpoche’s health, we recklessly organized the purchase of ducks, geese, guinea fowl, and roosters, all of whom were slated for sacrifice by black magic practitioners—there’s a market for such animals in Brazil. It is alarming to survey these flocks and contemplate their potential for rampant propagation. Twelve little ducklings have already appeared. But Rinpoche doesn’t worry. He only wants them well cared for, and to that end he is sponsoring the construction of a barn.”
There are times that we simply can’t save a life, but that too becomes practice. While living in Nepal recently, Paloma Lopez was moved by the suffering of animals being sacrificed there: “When a couple of the nuns and I went down into the town of Parping, just minutes away from the Ani Gonpa, we saw hundreds of hot, thirsty goats tied up waiting to be sold for sacrifice. We bought a couple and took them up to the gonpa, but all we could do to ease the suffering of the others was to give them water with dutzi in it.
Julianna spoke about a wounded cat she found on a highway and took to an emergency veterinary hospital. The vet did not think the cat would survive— even with emergency treatment, which in any case Julianna could not afford. She sat crying in the room with the dying cat, wishing there were more she could do. She prayed to the lama that there would be some benefit from the connection she had made with the cat.
It really comes down to guru yoga. We need to pray to the lama for the purest intention. We might feel attached to helping other beings— even proud. But our own minds are so small. If only we can access the lama’s vast mind, it will help us to understand the karma and interdependence of all beings.
Samsara is such that for every being we may save there are countless others we cannot. And impermanence is such that all beings will eventually die. So it may seem that our efforts have no more effect than a drop of water in the ocean. But the real power of such practice lies in our selfless dedication of the merit to the longevity of our lama. Even if we do not feel that our own practice will ease the suffering of others, we have felt the power of the lama’s blessings— the lama’s ability to turn people’s minds to the dharma— an extraordinary accomplishment. By praying that the life and activities of the lama will flourish, we ensure that many others will have the fortune to make a connection with an authentic teacher and gain the potential to attain enlightenment, so that all of samsara will be emptied.
Lama Trinley
Karma is infallible in that virtuous actions inevitably result in positive experiences and non virtuous actions lead to negative experiences. Still, it is not always easy to understand why a particular life is cut short or sustained. Because we are not omniscient buddhas, someone’s karma is not obvious to us. But as Buddhists committed to a path of harmlessness and helpfulness, we will naturally want to save a being whose life is threatened.
In our daily lives, no matter how careful we try to be, we inadvertently take the lives of many beings. H.E. Chagdud Rinpoche often speaks of the vast number of insects that are killed in the production of just one cup of tea. Saving life is one of the most meritorious acts we can engage in. The karmic consequence of doing so is to extend one’s life span. If such an act is purely motivated and the virtue is dedicated to the enlightenment of all beings, then the blessings will be swift and powerful, extending throughout space. Over the years, our sangha has repeatedly practiced saving animals’ lives and dedicating the merit to the longevity of our lama, Chagdud Rinpoche.
Chagdud Khadro shared some of her experiences of this practice with the Windhorse: “In 1991, at Chagdud Gonpa in Tibet, I was standing outside the lha khang and noticed several yaks tied up with their ears marked. Troubled by what I took as a sign of their immediate demise, I began to recite Amitabha and Avalokiteshvara mantras for them and asked Rinpoche to pray as well. Instead, he explained that the marks indicated that these animals would not be slaughtered, that their lives had been ransomed and the merit dedicated to his own longevity. He said that this was not an offering made casually by owners of great herds, but one made by people who had a few animals and would go without meat and a substantial part of their income because of their offering. Deeply moved, I added my prayers to theirs, that the merit of saving these lives would multiply ceaselessly and bring great fortune to each donor lifetime after lifetime.”
While the practice of saving lives is common in Tibet, where the lives of domestic animals are regularly ransomed, the concept may seem somewhat strange to Westerners. If you buy a large quantity of doomed worms, crickets, or bait fish, it is likely you will be asked what you plan to do with them. The individuals we spoke with for this article observed a wide range of reactions in the merchants they purchased beings from, including surprise, disbelief, anger, rejoicing, enthusiasm, or an interesting mix of these. So beyond the saving of life, this practice has the potential to turn the minds of others toward compassion, or at the least to expose them to a different way of perceiving sentient beings, neither of which is a small accomplishment.
The T’hondup Ling sangha in Los Angeles, under the direction of Lama Chödak Gyatso, releases fish regularly at Marina del Rey. Last year, the owner of a bait company was so impressed by the practice that he offered to release an extra net of fish for every one the sangha purchased, making it possible to save twice as many beings.
According to Veronica Miller, “Sometimes fishermen pull up to the dock in their motorboats to buy bait. Seeing twenty people surrounding a Tibetan lama, praying over a net full of little fish, probably comes as some surprise. But it must affect them, however subtly.”
Chagdud Khadro spoke about an earlier fish release: “In 1981, when Rinpoche’s life seemed quite tenuous, his students in Santa Barbara sponsored a fish release. Some of the bait sellers were insulted when they learned that the fish and crustaceans would not be used for bait and actually refused to sell them. Some, however, cooperated fully, and seemed to enjoy participating in a life-affirming activity. In addition to the small bait, we purchased some lobsters and crabs and went out on a fishing boat to release them in an appropriate environment. One lobster in particular Rinpoche fervently prayed over at length, making the aspiration that this benighted being would someday become a Dzogchen master. At the time I found it a little far-fetched; now I expect I could meet this creature again in some future lifetime and prostrate to it as a rigdzin—a master of awareness.”
Julianna Balistieri, a resident of Rigdzin Ling, said she walked into a fishing shop on Balboa Island to buy some bait fish to release. The owner offered to give her a few anchovies, but he said, “They are still going to die eventually.” She replied, “We all will, but perhaps they might live a little longer.” At a nearby dock, not far from some Vietnamese fishermen, Julianna released the fish and sat briefly praying for them. When she looked up, she saw one of the fishermen watching. He smiled at her and folded his hands in prayer. It seemed that, having come from a Buddhist country, the idea of saving life was not at all foreign to him.
The practice of saving life had an auspicious beginning at Iron Knot Ranch when Susan Baldwin ransomed the life of a particularly spirited cow, now affectionately known as “Lady,” who was supposed to be shipped off to auction the day the sangha took possession of the ranch. According to Michael Bradfute, Susan offered to pay for her when “Lady leaped the loading ramp fence at the last possible moment and took off for the hills, no small feat, for as it turned out, she was with child. . . . About two months later, and on a Tara Day no less, we ran into Lady on the side of Crystal Mountain. I don’t know who was more surprised to see who when out from behind her stumbled Spot, prettiest little bull you ever did see.”
This fall, Iron Knot Ranch invited individuals to participate in a “Cattle Drive,” which resulted in the ransom and release of ten heifer calves, who will live out their lives free of the fear of the slaughterhouse. Two new horses were also acquired (escaping the more traditional means of being retired) and are now companions of the previously lonely equine Norbu. These Iron Knot newcomers join Lady and Spot, an unconfirmed number of dogs (the most well known being Yeshe, a stray rescued by Don Delaquil from an L.A. freeway), two cats, and several goldfish
(refugees from a Walmart “feeder fish” aquarium) in the cool shade of the lama’s blessings.
Chagdud Khadro recounted some of the Brazilian sangha’s life-saving efforts: “In 1996 we saved a pig, who is now enormous, and allowed the first of a pack of about a dozen street dogs to take up permanent residence. The worst looking, Gina, an abused female with one eye and paps hanging down to the ground, has the finest, bravest character. Rinpoche never looks at her without rejoicing that she has survived and found a comfortable haven here. This year, deeply concerned about Rinpoche’s health, we recklessly organized the purchase of ducks, geese, guinea fowl, and roosters, all of whom were slated for sacrifice by black magic practitioners—there’s a market for such animals in Brazil. It is alarming to survey these flocks and contemplate their potential for rampant propagation. Twelve little ducklings have already appeared. But Rinpoche doesn’t worry. He only wants them well cared for, and to that end he is sponsoring the construction of a barn.”
There are times that we simply can’t save a life, but that too becomes practice. While living in Nepal recently, Paloma Lopez was moved by the suffering of animals being sacrificed there: “When a couple of the nuns and I went down into the town of Parping, just minutes away from the Ani Gonpa, we saw hundreds of hot, thirsty goats tied up waiting to be sold for sacrifice. We bought a couple and took them up to the gonpa, but all we could do to ease the suffering of the others was to give them water with dutzi in it.
Julianna spoke about a wounded cat she found on a highway and took to an emergency veterinary hospital. The vet did not think the cat would survive— even with emergency treatment, which in any case Julianna could not afford. She sat crying in the room with the dying cat, wishing there were more she could do. She prayed to the lama that there would be some benefit from the connection she had made with the cat.
It really comes down to guru yoga. We need to pray to the lama for the purest intention. We might feel attached to helping other beings— even proud. But our own minds are so small. If only we can access the lama’s vast mind, it will help us to understand the karma and interdependence of all beings.
Samsara is such that for every being we may save there are countless others we cannot. And impermanence is such that all beings will eventually die. So it may seem that our efforts have no more effect than a drop of water in the ocean. But the real power of such practice lies in our selfless dedication of the merit to the longevity of our lama. Even if we do not feel that our own practice will ease the suffering of others, we have felt the power of the lama’s blessings— the lama’s ability to turn people’s minds to the dharma— an extraordinary accomplishment. By praying that the life and activities of the lama will flourish, we ensure that many others will have the fortune to make a connection with an authentic teacher and gain the potential to attain enlightenment, so that all of samsara will be emptied.
Lama Trinley
Karma is infallible in that virtuous actions inevitably result in positive experiences and non virtuous actions lead to negative experiences. Still, it is not always easy to understand why a particular life is cut short or sustained. Because we are not omniscient buddhas, someone’s karma is not obvious to us. But as Buddhists committed to a path of harmlessness and helpfulness, we will naturally want to save a being whose life is threatened.
In our daily lives, no matter how careful we try to be, we inadvertently take the lives of many beings. H.E. Chagdud Rinpoche often speaks of the vast number of insects that are killed in the production of just one cup of tea. Saving life is one of the most meritorious acts we can engage in. The karmic consequence of doing so is to extend one’s life span. If such an act is purely motivated and the virtue is dedicated to the enlightenment of all beings, then the blessings will be swift and powerful, extending throughout space. Over the years, our sangha has repeatedly practiced saving animals’ lives and dedicating the merit to the longevity of our lama, Chagdud Rinpoche.
Chagdud Khadro shared some of her experiences of this practice with the Windhorse: “In 1991, at Chagdud Gonpa in Tibet, I was standing outside the lha khang and noticed several yaks tied up with their ears marked. Troubled by what I took as a sign of their immediate demise, I began to recite Amitabha and Avalokiteshvara mantras for them and asked Rinpoche to pray as well. Instead, he explained that the marks indicated that these animals would not be slaughtered, that their lives had been ransomed and the merit dedicated to his own longevity. He said that this was not an offering made casually by owners of great herds, but one made by people who had a few animals and would go without meat and a substantial part of their income because of their offering. Deeply moved, I added my prayers to theirs, that the merit of saving these lives would multiply ceaselessly and bring great fortune to each donor lifetime after lifetime.”
While the practice of saving lives is common in Tibet, where the lives of domestic animals are regularly ransomed, the concept may seem somewhat strange to Westerners. If you buy a large quantity of doomed worms, crickets, or bait fish, it is likely you will be asked what you plan to do with them. The individuals we spoke with for this article observed a wide range of reactions in the merchants they purchased beings from, including surprise, disbelief, anger, rejoicing, enthusiasm, or an interesting mix of these. So beyond the saving of life, this practice has the potential to turn the minds of others toward compassion, or at the least to expose them to a different way of perceiving sentient beings, neither of which is a small accomplishment.
The T’hondup Ling sangha in Los Angeles, under the direction of Lama Chödak Gyatso, releases fish regularly at Marina del Rey. Last year, the owner of a bait company was so impressed by the practice that he offered to release an extra net of fish for every one the sangha purchased, making it possible to save twice as many beings.
According to Veronica Miller, “Sometimes fishermen pull up to the dock in their motorboats to buy bait. Seeing twenty people surrounding a Tibetan lama, praying over a net full of little fish, probably comes as some surprise. But it must affect them, however subtly.”
Chagdud Khadro spoke about an earlier fish release: “In 1981, when Rinpoche’s life seemed quite tenuous, his students in Santa Barbara sponsored a fish release. Some of the bait sellers were insulted when they learned that the fish and crustaceans would not be used for bait and actually refused to sell them. Some, however, cooperated fully, and seemed to enjoy participating in a life-affirming activity. In addition to the small bait, we purchased some lobsters and crabs and went out on a fishing boat to release them in an appropriate environment. One lobster in particular Rinpoche fervently prayed over at length, making the aspiration that this benighted being would someday become a Dzogchen master. At the time I found it a little far-fetched; now I expect I could meet this creature again in some future lifetime and prostrate to it as a rigdzin—a master of awareness.”
Julianna Balistieri, a resident of Rigdzin Ling, said she walked into a fishing shop on Balboa Island to buy some bait fish to release. The owner offered to give her a few anchovies, but he said, “They are still going to die eventually.” She replied, “We all will, but perhaps they might live a little longer.” At a nearby dock, not far from some Vietnamese fishermen, Julianna released the fish and sat briefly praying for them. When she looked up, she saw one of the fishermen watching. He smiled at her and folded his hands in prayer. It seemed that, having come from a Buddhist country, the idea of saving life was not at all foreign to him.
The practice of saving life had an auspicious beginning at Iron Knot Ranch when Susan Baldwin ransomed the life of a particularly spirited cow, now affectionately known as “Lady,” who was supposed to be shipped off to auction the day the sangha took possession of the ranch. According to Michael Bradfute, Susan offered to pay for her when “Lady leaped the loading ramp fence at the last possible moment and took off for the hills, no small feat, for as it turned out, she was with child. . . . About two months later, and on a Tara Day no less, we ran into Lady on the side of Crystal Mountain. I don’t know who was more surprised to see who when out from behind her stumbled Spot, prettiest little bull you ever did see.”
This fall, Iron Knot Ranch invited individuals to participate in a “Cattle Drive,” which resulted in the ransom and release of ten heifer calves, who will live out their lives free of the fear of the slaughterhouse. Two new horses were also acquired (escaping the more traditional means of being retired) and are now companions of the previously lonely equine Norbu. These Iron Knot newcomers join Lady and Spot, an unconfirmed number of dogs (the most well known being Yeshe, a stray rescued by Don Delaquil from an L.A. freeway), two cats, and several goldfish
(refugees from a Walmart “feeder fish” aquarium) in the cool shade of the lama’s blessings.
Chagdud Khadro recounted some of the Brazilian sangha’s life-saving efforts: “In 1996 we saved a pig, who is now enormous, and allowed the first of a pack of about a dozen street dogs to take up permanent residence. The worst looking, Gina, an abused female with one eye and paps hanging down to the ground, has the finest, bravest character. Rinpoche never looks at her without rejoicing that she has survived and found a comfortable haven here. This year, deeply concerned about Rinpoche’s health, we recklessly organized the purchase of ducks, geese, guinea fowl, and roosters, all of whom were slated for sacrifice by black magic practitioners—there’s a market for such animals in Brazil. It is alarming to survey these flocks and contemplate their potential for rampant propagation. Twelve little ducklings have already appeared. But Rinpoche doesn’t worry. He only wants them well cared for, and to that end he is sponsoring the construction of a barn.”
There are times that we simply can’t save a life, but that too becomes practice. While living in Nepal recently, Paloma Lopez was moved by the suffering of animals being sacrificed there: “When a couple of the nuns and I went down into the town of Parping, just minutes away from the Ani Gonpa, we saw hundreds of hot, thirsty goats tied up waiting to be sold for sacrifice. We bought a couple and took them up to the gonpa, but all we could do to ease the suffering of the others was to give them water with dutzi in it.
Julianna spoke about a wounded cat she found on a highway and took to an emergency veterinary hospital. The vet did not think the cat would survive— even with emergency treatment, which in any case Julianna could not afford. She sat crying in the room with the dying cat, wishing there were more she could do. She prayed to the lama that there would be some benefit from the connection she had made with the cat.
It really comes down to guru yoga. We need to pray to the lama for the purest intention. We might feel attached to helping other beings— even proud. But our own minds are so small. If only we can access the lama’s vast mind, it will help us to understand the karma and interdependence of all beings.
Samsara is such that for every being we may save there are countless others we cannot. And impermanence is such that all beings will eventually die. So it may seem that our efforts have no more effect than a drop of water in the ocean. But the real power of such practice lies in our selfless dedication of the merit to the longevity of our lama. Even if we do not feel that our own practice will ease the suffering of others, we have felt the power of the lama’s blessings— the lama’s ability to turn people’s minds to the dharma— an extraordinary accomplishment. By praying that the life and activities of the lama will flourish, we ensure that many others will have the fortune to make a connection with an authentic teacher and gain the potential to attain enlightenment, so that all of samsara will be emptied.
Lama Trinley
Karma is infallible in that virtuous actions inevitably result in positive experiences and non virtuous actions lead to negative experiences. Still, it is not always easy to understand why a particular life is cut short or sustained. Because we are not omniscient buddhas, someone’s karma is not obvious to us. But as Buddhists committed to a path of harmlessness and helpfulness, we will naturally want to save a being whose life is threatened.
In our daily lives, no matter how careful we try to be, we inadvertently take the lives of many beings. H.E. Chagdud Rinpoche often speaks of the vast number of insects that are killed in the production of just one cup of tea. Saving life is one of the most meritorious acts we can engage in. The karmic consequence of doing so is to extend one’s life span. If such an act is purely motivated and the virtue is dedicated to the enlightenment of all beings, then the blessings will be swift and powerful, extending throughout space. Over the years, our sangha has repeatedly practiced saving animals’ lives and dedicating the merit to the longevity of our lama, Chagdud Rinpoche.
Chagdud Khadro shared some of her experiences of this practice with the Windhorse: “In 1991, at Chagdud Gonpa in Tibet, I was standing outside the lha khang and noticed several yaks tied up with their ears marked. Troubled by what I took as a sign of their immediate demise, I began to recite Amitabha and Avalokiteshvara mantras for them and asked Rinpoche to pray as well. Instead, he explained that the marks indicated that these animals would not be slaughtered, that their lives had been ransomed and the merit dedicated to his own longevity. He said that this was not an offering made casually by owners of great herds, but one made by people who had a few animals and would go without meat and a substantial part of their income because of their offering. Deeply moved, I added my prayers to theirs, that the merit of saving these lives would multiply ceaselessly and bring great fortune to each donor lifetime after lifetime.”
While the practice of saving lives is common in Tibet, where the lives of domestic animals are regularly ransomed, the concept may seem somewhat strange to Westerners. If you buy a large quantity of doomed worms, crickets, or bait fish, it is likely you will be asked what you plan to do with them. The individuals we spoke with for this article observed a wide range of reactions in the merchants they purchased beings from, including surprise, disbelief, anger, rejoicing, enthusiasm, or an interesting mix of these. So beyond the saving of life, this practice has the potential to turn the minds of others toward compassion, or at the least to expose them to a different way of perceiving sentient beings, neither of which is a small accomplishment.
The T’hondup Ling sangha in Los Angeles, under the direction of Lama Chödak Gyatso, releases fish regularly at Marina del Rey. Last year, the owner of a bait company was so impressed by the practice that he offered to release an extra net of fish for every one the sangha purchased, making it possible to save twice as many beings.
According to Veronica Miller, “Sometimes fishermen pull up to the dock in their motorboats to buy bait. Seeing twenty people surrounding a Tibetan lama, praying over a net full of little fish, probably comes as some surprise. But it must affect them, however subtly.”
Chagdud Khadro spoke about an earlier fish release: “In 1981, when Rinpoche’s life seemed quite tenuous, his students in Santa Barbara sponsored a fish release. Some of the bait sellers were insulted when they learned that the fish and crustaceans would not be used for bait and actually refused to sell them. Some, however, cooperated fully, and seemed to enjoy participating in a life-affirming activity. In addition to the small bait, we purchased some lobsters and crabs and went out on a fishing boat to release them in an appropriate environment. One lobster in particular Rinpoche fervently prayed over at length, making the aspiration that this benighted being would someday become a Dzogchen master. At the time I found it a little far-fetched; now I expect I could meet this creature again in some future lifetime and prostrate to it as a rigdzin—a master of awareness.”
Julianna Balistieri, a resident of Rigdzin Ling, said she walked into a fishing shop on Balboa Island to buy some bait fish to release. The owner offered to give her a few anchovies, but he said, “They are still going to die eventually.” She replied, “We all will, but perhaps they might live a little longer.” At a nearby dock, not far from some Vietnamese fishermen, Julianna released the fish and sat briefly praying for them. When she looked up, she saw one of the fishermen watching. He smiled at her and folded his hands in prayer. It seemed that, having come from a Buddhist country, the idea of saving life was not at all foreign to him.
The practice of saving life had an auspicious beginning at Iron Knot Ranch when Susan Baldwin ransomed the life of a particularly spirited cow, now affectionately known as “Lady,” who was supposed to be shipped off to auction the day the sangha took possession of the ranch. According to Michael Bradfute, Susan offered to pay for her when “Lady leaped the loading ramp fence at the last possible moment and took off for the hills, no small feat, for as it turned out, she was with child. . . . About two months later, and on a Tara Day no less, we ran into Lady on the side of Crystal Mountain. I don’t know who was more surprised to see who when out from behind her stumbled Spot, prettiest little bull you ever did see.”
This fall, Iron Knot Ranch invited individuals to participate in a “Cattle Drive,” which resulted in the ransom and release of ten heifer calves, who will live out their lives free of the fear of the slaughterhouse. Two new horses were also acquired (escaping the more traditional means of being retired) and are now companions of the previously lonely equine Norbu. These Iron Knot newcomers join Lady and Spot, an unconfirmed number of dogs (the most well known being Yeshe, a stray rescued by Don Delaquil from an L.A. freeway), two cats, and several goldfish
(refugees from a Walmart “feeder fish” aquarium) in the cool shade of the lama’s blessings.
Chagdud Khadro recounted some of the Brazilian sangha’s life-saving efforts: “In 1996 we saved a pig, who is now enormous, and allowed the first of a pack of about a dozen street dogs to take up permanent residence. The worst looking, Gina, an abused female with one eye and paps hanging down to the ground, has the finest, bravest character. Rinpoche never looks at her without rejoicing that she has survived and found a comfortable haven here. This year, deeply concerned about Rinpoche’s health, we recklessly organized the purchase of ducks, geese, guinea fowl, and roosters, all of whom were slated for sacrifice by black magic practitioners—there’s a market for such animals in Brazil. It is alarming to survey these flocks and contemplate their potential for rampant propagation. Twelve little ducklings have already appeared. But Rinpoche doesn’t worry. He only wants them well cared for, and to that end he is sponsoring the construction of a barn.”
There are times that we simply can’t save a life, but that too becomes practice. While living in Nepal recently, Paloma Lopez was moved by the suffering of animals being sacrificed there: “When a couple of the nuns and I went down into the town of Parping, just minutes away from the Ani Gonpa, we saw hundreds of hot, thirsty goats tied up waiting to be sold for sacrifice. We bought a couple and took them up to the gonpa, but all we could do to ease the suffering of the others was to give them water with dutzi in it.
Julianna spoke about a wounded cat she found on a highway and took to an emergency veterinary hospital. The vet did not think the cat would survive— even with emergency treatment, which in any case Julianna could not afford. She sat crying in the room with the dying cat, wishing there were more she could do. She prayed to the lama that there would be some benefit from the connection she had made with the cat.
It really comes down to guru yoga. We need to pray to the lama for the purest intention. We might feel attached to helping other beings— even proud. But our own minds are so small. If only we can access the lama’s vast mind, it will help us to understand the karma and interdependence of all beings.
Samsara is such that for every being we may save there are countless others we cannot. And impermanence is such that all beings will eventually die. So it may seem that our efforts have no more effect than a drop of water in the ocean. But the real power of such practice lies in our selfless dedication of the merit to the longevity of our lama. Even if we do not feel that our own practice will ease the suffering of others, we have felt the power of the lama’s blessings— the lama’s ability to turn people’s minds to the dharma— an extraordinary accomplishment. By praying that the life and activities of the lama will flourish, we ensure that many others will have the fortune to make a connection with an authentic teacher and gain the potential to attain enlightenment, so that all of samsara will be emptied.
Lama Trinley
