How many practitioners dream of this scenario: a free place to stay, food provided at regular intervals, and time to practice? It’s called retreat, and some people would give their eyeteeth to be able to do it, if they could just make it work.
There are certain people who find themselves living this scenario, but not by choice. They were placed there by society to correct some commonly perceived problem. Their situation is called prison instead of retreat, but what if they decided to use their prison time for spiritual practice? Perhaps they might come to consider what seems a loss of freedom as an opportunity to gain inner peace and contentment.
Some of us at Padma Ling in Spokane have been privileged to volunteer our time at the Airway Heights Correction Center, the largest medium-security prison in the state of Washington. For the past year and a half, we have conducted weekly practice sessions for a group of inmates. The commitment of these inmates has grown to such an extent that they recently asked for and received a Red Tara empowerment at the Center.
Padma Ling’s connection with the prison started one day with a phone call from the facility’s chaplain. The chaplain explained that one of the prisoners was a Buddhist and asked if we would be willing to provide spiritual services for him. Lama Yöntän was the first person to take on the job. He had been told many years before by H.E. Chagdud Rinpoche that one day he would help people in prison. Lama Yöntän went to a three-hour orientation class, got his red entry badge, and started to arrange practice sessions and teachings for the Buddhist, as well as other prisoners who might want to attend. The group grew quickly, and soon I, Judy Patterson, Dexter Amend, and Barbara Mueller also attended the orientation and received our red badges.
As we later found out, Daniel, the inmate who first requested the Buddhist services, did so as a joke. He had no particular religious persuasion, and when the chaplain asked him about it, on a lark, he pronounced himself a Buddhist. However, Daniel attended the practice sessions and has become a committed Buddhist practitioner. At first, he was so restless that within 20 minutes he would get up and run out of the sessions. Now he is calm and sometimes leads the chanting during Tara puja.
In a letter to Padma Ling, inmate Bruce Allen Lee had this to say about his involvement in the Airway Heights group: “For years I prepared through reading Buddhist texts, studying Sanskrit and engaging in meditation. Then suddenly, without notice, I was told I would be transferred from the notorious old state prison to another newer one.
“While it may be unusual for a sangha to develop in a prison, the Red Tara practice opened doors for such a sangha to become inspired. Under the careful and compassionate instruction of Lama Inge and Lama Yöntän I have begun to work on my own flaws. I have taken refuge and I am now able to practice within the prison sangha as though in a monastery. We work together to nurture our Buddha qualities.”
One of the greatest concerns of the prison sangha is the period of transition for people after they have been released. Often, release brings stress and trauma. As his release time approached, Val, one of our group members, started to have dreams that a tornado was about to carry him away. And Daniel has been in prison six months longer than necessary because he has nowhere to go. As volunteers, we are not allowed to provide newly released inmates a place to stay. If we did, we would lose our volunteer status and then we could not help at all.
In his letter to Padma Ling, Bruce Allen also said: “We envision that with our great fortune to practice we may establish an outside center for reentering the outside world. This would become an extension of our prison sangha where members could continue their practice once released back into the community.” It is our prayer that many sangha members will be able to work together for the success of such a project.
On the whole, working on the prison sangha program has been a very rewarding experience. However, if you are thinking of establishing such a program in your area, we would suggest that the volunteers be mature and well grounded in their practice. One very idealistic sangha member insisted on joining our program and then found out that she could not deal with it at all. She has not come back to practice with us since.
Working with both inmates and the system requires patience. Getting into a medium-security facility is almost as hard as getting out of one. There are forms to fill out. You have to trade your driver’s license for a badge and you don’t get it back until after the session. Your belongings are stored in a locker. You have to pass through a metal detector that is so sensitive that it reacts to the metal in some people’s teeth. After that, you pass through three locked doors. The first of these is opened by an officer who pushes a secret sequence of buttons. The next two doors can never be opened at the same time, so the second closes behind you before the third opens. Volunteers who initially feel they were courted by the system to help out may be surprised to find themselves being scrutinized with as much suspicion as the prisoners are.
Once you are inside, however, the practice room is pleasant. The same room is used by many denominations. It is air-conditioned in the summer and heated in the winter. To be sure, it isn’t a traditional shrine room. But when one considers the conditions of the yogins who practice around Tso Pema, for instance, in mud-floored huts with hardly any fuel and very scarce food supplies, then the conditions at the prison seem comfortable indeed.
Still, there are many challenges to one’s happiness in prison. There is enough food, but it is not always of good quality. Movement from one place to another is very controlled, and except for a few female wardens and volunteers the environment is all-male, a situation that in itself can be quite stressful. It has been our experience that the Tara practice provides a much-needed balance, and the people who have practiced it for almost two years now show clear signs of maturing and softening.
Lama Inge
Poem to Tara
I see love coming toward me
from thousands of years away
walking over the ashes and bones
of a thousand civilizations.
I see you coming toward me
from thousands of years away
drowning the darkness of history
with your light.
I see you coming toward me
from thousands of years away
sharing your light, your peace
and your wisdom.
You take ages-long steps
toward me
to reach me
Giving.
I take short, unsure steps
towards you
to reach you
Wanting.
I see you coming toward me
from thousands of years away
and tomorrow
you will touch me.
Victor Vasquez
prisoner #978487 KB431
How many practitioners dream of this scenario: a free place to stay, food provided at regular intervals, and time to practice? It’s called retreat, and some people would give their eyeteeth to be able to do it, if they could just make it work.
There are certain people who find themselves living this scenario, but not by choice. They were placed there by society to correct some commonly perceived problem. Their situation is called prison instead of retreat, but what if they decided to use their prison time for spiritual practice? Perhaps they might come to consider what seems a loss of freedom as an opportunity to gain inner peace and contentment.
Some of us at Padma Ling in Spokane have been privileged to volunteer our time at the Airway Heights Correction Center, the largest medium-security prison in the state of Washington. For the past year and a half, we have conducted weekly practice sessions for a group of inmates. The commitment of these inmates has grown to such an extent that they recently asked for and received a Red Tara empowerment at the Center.
Padma Ling’s connection with the prison started one day with a phone call from the facility’s chaplain. The chaplain explained that one of the prisoners was a Buddhist and asked if we would be willing to provide spiritual services for him. Lama Yöntän was the first person to take on the job. He had been told many years before by H.E. Chagdud Rinpoche that one day he would help people in prison. Lama Yöntän went to a three-hour orientation class, got his red entry badge, and started to arrange practice sessions and teachings for the Buddhist, as well as other prisoners who might want to attend. The group grew quickly, and soon I, Judy Patterson, Dexter Amend, and Barbara Mueller also attended the orientation and received our red badges.
As we later found out, Daniel, the inmate who first requested the Buddhist services, did so as a joke. He had no particular religious persuasion, and when the chaplain asked him about it, on a lark, he pronounced himself a Buddhist. However, Daniel attended the practice sessions and has become a committed Buddhist practitioner. At first, he was so restless that within 20 minutes he would get up and run out of the sessions. Now he is calm and sometimes leads the chanting during Tara puja.
In a letter to Padma Ling, inmate Bruce Allen Lee had this to say about his involvement in the Airway Heights group: “For years I prepared through reading Buddhist texts, studying Sanskrit and engaging in meditation. Then suddenly, without notice, I was told I would be transferred from the notorious old state prison to another newer one.
“While it may be unusual for a sangha to develop in a prison, the Red Tara practice opened doors for such a sangha to become inspired. Under the careful and compassionate instruction of Lama Inge and Lama Yöntän I have begun to work on my own flaws. I have taken refuge and I am now able to practice within the prison sangha as though in a monastery. We work together to nurture our Buddha qualities.”
One of the greatest concerns of the prison sangha is the period of transition for people after they have been released. Often, release brings stress and trauma. As his release time approached, Val, one of our group members, started to have dreams that a tornado was about to carry him away. And Daniel has been in prison six months longer than necessary because he has nowhere to go. As volunteers, we are not allowed to provide newly released inmates a place to stay. If we did, we would lose our volunteer status and then we could not help at all.
In his letter to Padma Ling, Bruce Allen also said: “We envision that with our great fortune to practice we may establish an outside center for reentering the outside world. This would become an extension of our prison sangha where members could continue their practice once released back into the community.” It is our prayer that many sangha members will be able to work together for the success of such a project.
On the whole, working on the prison sangha program has been a very rewarding experience. However, if you are thinking of establishing such a program in your area, we would suggest that the volunteers be mature and well grounded in their practice. One very idealistic sangha member insisted on joining our program and then found out that she could not deal with it at all. She has not come back to practice with us since.
Working with both inmates and the system requires patience. Getting into a medium-security facility is almost as hard as getting out of one. There are forms to fill out. You have to trade your driver’s license for a badge and you don’t get it back until after the session. Your belongings are stored in a locker. You have to pass through a metal detector that is so sensitive that it reacts to the metal in some people’s teeth. After that, you pass through three locked doors. The first of these is opened by an officer who pushes a secret sequence of buttons. The next two doors can never be opened at the same time, so the second closes behind you before the third opens. Volunteers who initially feel they were courted by the system to help out may be surprised to find themselves being scrutinized with as much suspicion as the prisoners are.
Once you are inside, however, the practice room is pleasant. The same room is used by many denominations. It is air-conditioned in the summer and heated in the winter. To be sure, it isn’t a traditional shrine room. But when one considers the conditions of the yogins who practice around Tso Pema, for instance, in mud-floored huts with hardly any fuel and very scarce food supplies, then the conditions at the prison seem comfortable indeed.
Still, there are many challenges to one’s happiness in prison. There is enough food, but it is not always of good quality. Movement from one place to another is very controlled, and except for a few female wardens and volunteers the environment is all-male, a situation that in itself can be quite stressful. It has been our experience that the Tara practice provides a much-needed balance, and the people who have practiced it for almost two years now show clear signs of maturing and softening.
Lama Inge
Poem to Tara
I see love coming toward me
from thousands of years away
walking over the ashes and bones
of a thousand civilizations.
I see you coming toward me
from thousands of years away
drowning the darkness of history
with your light.
I see you coming toward me
from thousands of years away
sharing your light, your peace
and your wisdom.
You take ages-long steps
toward me
to reach me
Giving.
I take short, unsure steps
towards you
to reach you
Wanting.
I see you coming toward me
from thousands of years away
and tomorrow
you will touch me.
Victor Vasquez
prisoner #978487 KB431
How many practitioners dream of this scenario: a free place to stay, food provided at regular intervals, and time to practice? It’s called retreat, and some people would give their eyeteeth to be able to do it, if they could just make it work.
There are certain people who find themselves living this scenario, but not by choice. They were placed there by society to correct some commonly perceived problem. Their situation is called prison instead of retreat, but what if they decided to use their prison time for spiritual practice? Perhaps they might come to consider what seems a loss of freedom as an opportunity to gain inner peace and contentment.
Some of us at Padma Ling in Spokane have been privileged to volunteer our time at the Airway Heights Correction Center, the largest medium-security prison in the state of Washington. For the past year and a half, we have conducted weekly practice sessions for a group of inmates. The commitment of these inmates has grown to such an extent that they recently asked for and received a Red Tara empowerment at the Center.
Padma Ling’s connection with the prison started one day with a phone call from the facility’s chaplain. The chaplain explained that one of the prisoners was a Buddhist and asked if we would be willing to provide spiritual services for him. Lama Yöntän was the first person to take on the job. He had been told many years before by H.E. Chagdud Rinpoche that one day he would help people in prison. Lama Yöntän went to a three-hour orientation class, got his red entry badge, and started to arrange practice sessions and teachings for the Buddhist, as well as other prisoners who might want to attend. The group grew quickly, and soon I, Judy Patterson, Dexter Amend, and Barbara Mueller also attended the orientation and received our red badges.
As we later found out, Daniel, the inmate who first requested the Buddhist services, did so as a joke. He had no particular religious persuasion, and when the chaplain asked him about it, on a lark, he pronounced himself a Buddhist. However, Daniel attended the practice sessions and has become a committed Buddhist practitioner. At first, he was so restless that within 20 minutes he would get up and run out of the sessions. Now he is calm and sometimes leads the chanting during Tara puja.
In a letter to Padma Ling, inmate Bruce Allen Lee had this to say about his involvement in the Airway Heights group: “For years I prepared through reading Buddhist texts, studying Sanskrit and engaging in meditation. Then suddenly, without notice, I was told I would be transferred from the notorious old state prison to another newer one.
“While it may be unusual for a sangha to develop in a prison, the Red Tara practice opened doors for such a sangha to become inspired. Under the careful and compassionate instruction of Lama Inge and Lama Yöntän I have begun to work on my own flaws. I have taken refuge and I am now able to practice within the prison sangha as though in a monastery. We work together to nurture our Buddha qualities.”
One of the greatest concerns of the prison sangha is the period of transition for people after they have been released. Often, release brings stress and trauma. As his release time approached, Val, one of our group members, started to have dreams that a tornado was about to carry him away. And Daniel has been in prison six months longer than necessary because he has nowhere to go. As volunteers, we are not allowed to provide newly released inmates a place to stay. If we did, we would lose our volunteer status and then we could not help at all.
In his letter to Padma Ling, Bruce Allen also said: “We envision that with our great fortune to practice we may establish an outside center for reentering the outside world. This would become an extension of our prison sangha where members could continue their practice once released back into the community.” It is our prayer that many sangha members will be able to work together for the success of such a project.
On the whole, working on the prison sangha program has been a very rewarding experience. However, if you are thinking of establishing such a program in your area, we would suggest that the volunteers be mature and well grounded in their practice. One very idealistic sangha member insisted on joining our program and then found out that she could not deal with it at all. She has not come back to practice with us since.
Working with both inmates and the system requires patience. Getting into a medium-security facility is almost as hard as getting out of one. There are forms to fill out. You have to trade your driver’s license for a badge and you don’t get it back until after the session. Your belongings are stored in a locker. You have to pass through a metal detector that is so sensitive that it reacts to the metal in some people’s teeth. After that, you pass through three locked doors. The first of these is opened by an officer who pushes a secret sequence of buttons. The next two doors can never be opened at the same time, so the second closes behind you before the third opens. Volunteers who initially feel they were courted by the system to help out may be surprised to find themselves being scrutinized with as much suspicion as the prisoners are.
Once you are inside, however, the practice room is pleasant. The same room is used by many denominations. It is air-conditioned in the summer and heated in the winter. To be sure, it isn’t a traditional shrine room. But when one considers the conditions of the yogins who practice around Tso Pema, for instance, in mud-floored huts with hardly any fuel and very scarce food supplies, then the conditions at the prison seem comfortable indeed.
Still, there are many challenges to one’s happiness in prison. There is enough food, but it is not always of good quality. Movement from one place to another is very controlled, and except for a few female wardens and volunteers the environment is all-male, a situation that in itself can be quite stressful. It has been our experience that the Tara practice provides a much-needed balance, and the people who have practiced it for almost two years now show clear signs of maturing and softening.
Lama Inge
Poem to Tara
I see love coming toward me
from thousands of years away
walking over the ashes and bones
of a thousand civilizations.
I see you coming toward me
from thousands of years away
drowning the darkness of history
with your light.
I see you coming toward me
from thousands of years away
sharing your light, your peace
and your wisdom.
You take ages-long steps
toward me
to reach me
Giving.
I take short, unsure steps
towards you
to reach you
Wanting.
I see you coming toward me
from thousands of years away
and tomorrow
you will touch me.
Victor Vasquez
prisoner #978487 KB431
How many practitioners dream of this scenario: a free place to stay, food provided at regular intervals, and time to practice? It’s called retreat, and some people would give their eyeteeth to be able to do it, if they could just make it work.
There are certain people who find themselves living this scenario, but not by choice. They were placed there by society to correct some commonly perceived problem. Their situation is called prison instead of retreat, but what if they decided to use their prison time for spiritual practice? Perhaps they might come to consider what seems a loss of freedom as an opportunity to gain inner peace and contentment.
Some of us at Padma Ling in Spokane have been privileged to volunteer our time at the Airway Heights Correction Center, the largest medium-security prison in the state of Washington. For the past year and a half, we have conducted weekly practice sessions for a group of inmates. The commitment of these inmates has grown to such an extent that they recently asked for and received a Red Tara empowerment at the Center.
Padma Ling’s connection with the prison started one day with a phone call from the facility’s chaplain. The chaplain explained that one of the prisoners was a Buddhist and asked if we would be willing to provide spiritual services for him. Lama Yöntän was the first person to take on the job. He had been told many years before by H.E. Chagdud Rinpoche that one day he would help people in prison. Lama Yöntän went to a three-hour orientation class, got his red entry badge, and started to arrange practice sessions and teachings for the Buddhist, as well as other prisoners who might want to attend. The group grew quickly, and soon I, Judy Patterson, Dexter Amend, and Barbara Mueller also attended the orientation and received our red badges.
As we later found out, Daniel, the inmate who first requested the Buddhist services, did so as a joke. He had no particular religious persuasion, and when the chaplain asked him about it, on a lark, he pronounced himself a Buddhist. However, Daniel attended the practice sessions and has become a committed Buddhist practitioner. At first, he was so restless that within 20 minutes he would get up and run out of the sessions. Now he is calm and sometimes leads the chanting during Tara puja.
In a letter to Padma Ling, inmate Bruce Allen Lee had this to say about his involvement in the Airway Heights group: “For years I prepared through reading Buddhist texts, studying Sanskrit and engaging in meditation. Then suddenly, without notice, I was told I would be transferred from the notorious old state prison to another newer one.
“While it may be unusual for a sangha to develop in a prison, the Red Tara practice opened doors for such a sangha to become inspired. Under the careful and compassionate instruction of Lama Inge and Lama Yöntän I have begun to work on my own flaws. I have taken refuge and I am now able to practice within the prison sangha as though in a monastery. We work together to nurture our Buddha qualities.”
One of the greatest concerns of the prison sangha is the period of transition for people after they have been released. Often, release brings stress and trauma. As his release time approached, Val, one of our group members, started to have dreams that a tornado was about to carry him away. And Daniel has been in prison six months longer than necessary because he has nowhere to go. As volunteers, we are not allowed to provide newly released inmates a place to stay. If we did, we would lose our volunteer status and then we could not help at all.
In his letter to Padma Ling, Bruce Allen also said: “We envision that with our great fortune to practice we may establish an outside center for reentering the outside world. This would become an extension of our prison sangha where members could continue their practice once released back into the community.” It is our prayer that many sangha members will be able to work together for the success of such a project.
On the whole, working on the prison sangha program has been a very rewarding experience. However, if you are thinking of establishing such a program in your area, we would suggest that the volunteers be mature and well grounded in their practice. One very idealistic sangha member insisted on joining our program and then found out that she could not deal with it at all. She has not come back to practice with us since.
Working with both inmates and the system requires patience. Getting into a medium-security facility is almost as hard as getting out of one. There are forms to fill out. You have to trade your driver’s license for a badge and you don’t get it back until after the session. Your belongings are stored in a locker. You have to pass through a metal detector that is so sensitive that it reacts to the metal in some people’s teeth. After that, you pass through three locked doors. The first of these is opened by an officer who pushes a secret sequence of buttons. The next two doors can never be opened at the same time, so the second closes behind you before the third opens. Volunteers who initially feel they were courted by the system to help out may be surprised to find themselves being scrutinized with as much suspicion as the prisoners are.
Once you are inside, however, the practice room is pleasant. The same room is used by many denominations. It is air-conditioned in the summer and heated in the winter. To be sure, it isn’t a traditional shrine room. But when one considers the conditions of the yogins who practice around Tso Pema, for instance, in mud-floored huts with hardly any fuel and very scarce food supplies, then the conditions at the prison seem comfortable indeed.
Still, there are many challenges to one’s happiness in prison. There is enough food, but it is not always of good quality. Movement from one place to another is very controlled, and except for a few female wardens and volunteers the environment is all-male, a situation that in itself can be quite stressful. It has been our experience that the Tara practice provides a much-needed balance, and the people who have practiced it for almost two years now show clear signs of maturing and softening.
Lama Inge
Poem to Tara
I see love coming toward me
from thousands of years away
walking over the ashes and bones
of a thousand civilizations.
I see you coming toward me
from thousands of years away
drowning the darkness of history
with your light.
I see you coming toward me
from thousands of years away
sharing your light, your peace
and your wisdom.
You take ages-long steps
toward me
to reach me
Giving.
I take short, unsure steps
towards you
to reach you
Wanting.
I see you coming toward me
from thousands of years away
and tomorrow
you will touch me.
Victor Vasquez
prisoner #978487 KB431
How many practitioners dream of this scenario: a free place to stay, food provided at regular intervals, and time to practice? It’s called retreat, and some people would give their eyeteeth to be able to do it, if they could just make it work.
There are certain people who find themselves living this scenario, but not by choice. They were placed there by society to correct some commonly perceived problem. Their situation is called prison instead of retreat, but what if they decided to use their prison time for spiritual practice? Perhaps they might come to consider what seems a loss of freedom as an opportunity to gain inner peace and contentment.
Some of us at Padma Ling in Spokane have been privileged to volunteer our time at the Airway Heights Correction Center, the largest medium-security prison in the state of Washington. For the past year and a half, we have conducted weekly practice sessions for a group of inmates. The commitment of these inmates has grown to such an extent that they recently asked for and received a Red Tara empowerment at the Center.
Padma Ling’s connection with the prison started one day with a phone call from the facility’s chaplain. The chaplain explained that one of the prisoners was a Buddhist and asked if we would be willing to provide spiritual services for him. Lama Yöntän was the first person to take on the job. He had been told many years before by H.E. Chagdud Rinpoche that one day he would help people in prison. Lama Yöntän went to a three-hour orientation class, got his red entry badge, and started to arrange practice sessions and teachings for the Buddhist, as well as other prisoners who might want to attend. The group grew quickly, and soon I, Judy Patterson, Dexter Amend, and Barbara Mueller also attended the orientation and received our red badges.
As we later found out, Daniel, the inmate who first requested the Buddhist services, did so as a joke. He had no particular religious persuasion, and when the chaplain asked him about it, on a lark, he pronounced himself a Buddhist. However, Daniel attended the practice sessions and has become a committed Buddhist practitioner. At first, he was so restless that within 20 minutes he would get up and run out of the sessions. Now he is calm and sometimes leads the chanting during Tara puja.
In a letter to Padma Ling, inmate Bruce Allen Lee had this to say about his involvement in the Airway Heights group: “For years I prepared through reading Buddhist texts, studying Sanskrit and engaging in meditation. Then suddenly, without notice, I was told I would be transferred from the notorious old state prison to another newer one.
“While it may be unusual for a sangha to develop in a prison, the Red Tara practice opened doors for such a sangha to become inspired. Under the careful and compassionate instruction of Lama Inge and Lama Yöntän I have begun to work on my own flaws. I have taken refuge and I am now able to practice within the prison sangha as though in a monastery. We work together to nurture our Buddha qualities.”
One of the greatest concerns of the prison sangha is the period of transition for people after they have been released. Often, release brings stress and trauma. As his release time approached, Val, one of our group members, started to have dreams that a tornado was about to carry him away. And Daniel has been in prison six months longer than necessary because he has nowhere to go. As volunteers, we are not allowed to provide newly released inmates a place to stay. If we did, we would lose our volunteer status and then we could not help at all.
In his letter to Padma Ling, Bruce Allen also said: “We envision that with our great fortune to practice we may establish an outside center for reentering the outside world. This would become an extension of our prison sangha where members could continue their practice once released back into the community.” It is our prayer that many sangha members will be able to work together for the success of such a project.
On the whole, working on the prison sangha program has been a very rewarding experience. However, if you are thinking of establishing such a program in your area, we would suggest that the volunteers be mature and well grounded in their practice. One very idealistic sangha member insisted on joining our program and then found out that she could not deal with it at all. She has not come back to practice with us since.
Working with both inmates and the system requires patience. Getting into a medium-security facility is almost as hard as getting out of one. There are forms to fill out. You have to trade your driver’s license for a badge and you don’t get it back until after the session. Your belongings are stored in a locker. You have to pass through a metal detector that is so sensitive that it reacts to the metal in some people’s teeth. After that, you pass through three locked doors. The first of these is opened by an officer who pushes a secret sequence of buttons. The next two doors can never be opened at the same time, so the second closes behind you before the third opens. Volunteers who initially feel they were courted by the system to help out may be surprised to find themselves being scrutinized with as much suspicion as the prisoners are.
Once you are inside, however, the practice room is pleasant. The same room is used by many denominations. It is air-conditioned in the summer and heated in the winter. To be sure, it isn’t a traditional shrine room. But when one considers the conditions of the yogins who practice around Tso Pema, for instance, in mud-floored huts with hardly any fuel and very scarce food supplies, then the conditions at the prison seem comfortable indeed.
Still, there are many challenges to one’s happiness in prison. There is enough food, but it is not always of good quality. Movement from one place to another is very controlled, and except for a few female wardens and volunteers the environment is all-male, a situation that in itself can be quite stressful. It has been our experience that the Tara practice provides a much-needed balance, and the people who have practiced it for almost two years now show clear signs of maturing and softening.
Lama Inge
Poem to Tara
I see love coming toward me
from thousands of years away
walking over the ashes and bones
of a thousand civilizations.
I see you coming toward me
from thousands of years away
drowning the darkness of history
with your light.
I see you coming toward me
from thousands of years away
sharing your light, your peace
and your wisdom.
You take ages-long steps
toward me
to reach me
Giving.
I take short, unsure steps
towards you
to reach you
Wanting.
I see you coming toward me
from thousands of years away
and tomorrow
you will touch me.
Victor Vasquez
prisoner #978487 KB431
