Three of my walks in New Orleans took me into the Ninth Ward and the Lower Ninth Ward, the primary neighborhoods that delivered pictures to the world of people left behind, stranded on their roofs in the floods when water driven by hurricane Katrina breached the levees. In the handful of off-the-cuff video interviews I conducted on my walks, my inquiries began with questions such as “How is the oil spill affecting you?” or about water in general, but increasingly I found myself simply wanting to ask people, “What do you want?”

I asked all of these questions of Faith and Perry, two young people I encountered, along with their dog Grimace, on the porch of their house in the Ninth Ward - as seen in this 5-minute video documentary. Click below to watch, and then answer Bill’s questions in the comments section below.

That said, how is the spill affecting Shambhalians ~ near or far? Do give us a piece of your mind below. What do you want?

For several years now, I have staffed Sun Camp. But last summer I had to leave early because I had started working at a bank and didn’t have enough vacation days to staff the entire program. Leaving early was a heartbreaking, and for a little while I thought about calling my boss and requesting a couple of unpaid days off in order to see the program through.

This experience got me thinking about the somewhat irrational way that we relate to donations of money and time. The reality was that Sun Camp didn’t actually need me - there were plenty of brilliant people volunteering, and while I’m sure I would be missed in some sense, it likely wouldn’t cause a great deal of inconvenience. I realized that, as we were in the process of fundraising for a new kitchen, a financial donation would actually be more valuable than my presence at the camp. So I decided to return to Toronto, go to work, and donate the money I made during those three days to Sun Camp.

Each year I probably donate about a month of work to Sun Camp, and I’m thrilled to do it. Whether I’m at camp, running around buying t-shirts, or doing administrative work over the year, I feel genuinely happy and fortunate to be contributing to the program. I do this every year, but if someone asked me to donate one months wages to Sun Camp, or any other Shambhala program for that matter, I would start to feel like they were asking a lot. Volunteering for a month doesn’t seem like too much to give up, but $2000? That’s asking a lot.

What’s so strange about this is that I spend most of my day exchanging time for money. We all do. We wake up and go to work in order to trade time for money, we work hard and get professional training so that we can make that at a better rate. As a result of this, when we donate time we are actually donating money and vice versa.

Because labor and money are interchangeable, we should reasonably donate whichever one is most needed. Sometimes that means washing dishes at a Shambhala Training program, sometimes that means washing dishes at a restaurant and donating your wages, sometimes that means staffing Sun Camp, sometimes that means going back to work.

When I came back to Toronto I decided to relate to my professional work just like I related to work at camp. I took out a piece of paper and wrote “Rota: Test Credit Derivative Trading Software” and then I wrote down my name. This did an enormous amount to cheer me up. I wasn’t just slouching off to work, I was doing something material for the world. The financial donation was a way of connecting my worklife with practice. At the end of the day I quietly dedicated the merit, calculated my before tax income for the day, and pledged it to the kitchen project.

When an organization asks for financial donations they are asking for volunteers. They are asking for people to donate the product of their time. My suggestion is to actually formalize this practice: give up a day, three days, or longer, write down your rota, and give it away.

Gordon Shotwell grew up in the Shambhala community in Halifax, he currently serves as the Nova Scotia Regional Chair for the Shambhala Sun Camp Leadership Group. Gordon lives and works in Toronto.

Contemplating the Sakyong’s talk on Shambhala Households, I found myself thinking about the practice of service. Service is such an integral part of Shambhala that it is often taken for granted and not recognized as the profound practice that it can be.

Hearing the word “service” might at first bring up images of serving a teacher by bringing a glass of water or a cup of tea, before or during a talk. Or perhaps the image is of serving in a household set up when the Sakyong, or another visiting teacher comes to lead a program. Service, in that case, might involve running a vacuum cleaner, doing laundry, washing the dishes or cooking or serving a meal. Or the image might be of doing these activities at the Kalapa Court in Halifax, the home of the Sakyong and Sakyong Wangmo. In practical terms we only do this kind of service occasionally.

However, there is a wider view in which service can be seen as the basis of many common Shambhala activities. In this wider view the basic elements of service could be described, in a simplified way, as (1) creating an uplifted environment and (2) attending to the needs of those PEOPLE in the environment. From that point of view, staffing or teaching a Shambhala program certainly involves the practice of serving, as does any kind of administrative activity. Likewise, Dorje Kasung activity is a very direct form of service.

In my experience, service, in this larger view, is a powerful practice. It involves body, speech and mind and, being a “real world” practice, requires engaging with the world as it is. In experiential terms, the practice of serving involves a fundamental shift of attention from “me” to others and the environment. That is, in the process of serving the practitioner is focused more on the needs of the environment and the people in it, and less on their own individual interest.

In thinking about Shambhala Households, it would seem that the practice of service is clearly applicable. In particular, as residents of a Shambhala Household we could view ourselves in the role of providing service to the environment and residents (including ourselves) of our own household. This would mean relating to our household with the same attention and care we would take if we were serving in the Kalapa Court or teaching or coordinating a large Shambhala program, or being on-duty as a Kasung with the Sakyong or Sakyong Wangmo.

This concept will be familiar to Dorje Kasung who often talk about being on duty 24/7, applying the same practice, the same mind, in whatever situation or environment they find themselves, whether officially on-duty or not.

There are, no doubt, many ways to bring the view, practice and action of Shambhala Buddhism into our households. The practice of serving may be one. As a practice it can be quite demanding, but it is also fundamentally uplifting. It is interesting to note that Chogyam Trungpa Rinpoche coined the phrase, “Service is the Ultimate Smile.”

Photo Credits: Sean Raggett. Flower arrangment by Khandro Tseyang.

Click on images to enlarge:

The offerings here are a rice paddle and chopsticks. The shrine should also contain a rice offering and water or sake offering. And a JAM calligraphy, the seed syllable for Jambhala, a deity representing prosperity and abundance.

The Kitchen Shrine should only contain these objects. No pictures are necessary. No tsotchkes. And no incense, as that interferes with the cooking smells. You can make the shrine as elegant as you like.

The variations are many within these simple bounds. Choose beautiful bowls. Place the shrine above chest level, not too low and not too high, so that you can reach it.

The poem by Chogyam Trungpa Rinpoche reads:

WARMTH IN THE HOUSE
Garuda’s wings
Dragon’s roar
Confused child
Lion’s cuddle
Tiger brings food –
Shambhala household

Read more articles about Shambhala Households.

The entrance to Dechen Choling's shrine hall

Dechen Choling, the European land center, is a magical place, sometimes full of great bliss as its name indicates (dechen = great bliss, choling = dharma place). At other times, it may be full of the storms that the collective and individual minds there create. 

Dechen Chöling is located outside of Limoges, France. There is a grand old chateau, some old stone structures and a new shrine hall, all surrounded by a gorgeous countryside of rolling fields, cows, walking trails and beautiful trees. And there are people, hundreds of people, always coming and going, a new range of faces every year. In 2008, I was one of those faces.

Moving to Dechen Chöling was both a difficult decision and an easy one to make. It was easy because I had so much longing to be there: to work, to practice and to attempt to join and help in the creation of enlightened society. It was a difficult decision because of more material reasons, such as “Can I take a 90% pay cut for two years?”, “How will this affect my career?”, “How will I get a job when I leave?”, “How am I going to support myself when I leave?” and so on.

The chateau, Dechen Choling

I had come to Dechen Choling for the winter ngondro retreat in December 2007. While consulting with Acharya Mathias Pongracz who had been encouraging me to move there, we threw the I Ching. The image given by the I Ching was to “join the way” or “continue to limp along”. That was it: I decided to step off into groundlessness. I said, “Yes,” and arrived in April 2008, full of happiness and a desire to serve the sangha in whatever capacity I could. But stepping off that figurative cliff, I fell long and hard during my year at Dechen Choling.

The first few months were absolutely blissful. Many people had worked hard for months preparing for the Gesar Festival. This was the largest program that Dechen Choling had ever hosted and the Sakyong, His Eminence Namkha Drimed Rinpoche, Gyetrul Jigme Rinpoche and the future Sakyong Wangmo were all in attendance. It was an extraordinary time to be there!

The author's home for a few weeks

Even when I was a bit worried myself, the people around me were very confident in my abilities as a personnel manager. I had no experience managing groups of volunteers, and so to have the reins handed over to me when Dechen Choling was at it’s most chaotic with almost 80 volunteers on the land, was really something. I also fell in love at this time, but that’s another story. My first few months at Dechen Choling were truly the most delightful time of my entire life. Then, the big dharma bombs began to fall.

I remember reading something in which Chögyam Trungpa Rinpoche discusses placing into leadership positions people who might not be ready as a method of processing the student. What happened at Dechen Choling over this last year is that I jumped into that blender, not as prepared as others or I had thought. Things fell apart, my neurosis came out with a vengeance, and the speed and chaos of Dechen Choling put the blender on full speed. And then the plug was pulled out halfway.

Dechen Choling staff meeting

I sometimes wonder if it is my turn to take on the title of “worst Buddhist in the world”, because I did not take to the blender. I wonder if I needed more time, more support, more patience. Just days ago, I left Dechen Choling (March 2009), feeling raw, tender and unhinged. Yet I know that I’ve come a long way, too, in terms of self-awareness and in processing the effects of this last year.

My experience at Dechen Choling was intense: a period of intense bliss and then a period of intense loneliness, pain and loss of confidence. When I reflect on what happened, my mind is drawn to the word “blame”. People are always looking – constantly - at whom to assign blame. And in my mind, or maybe because things are heightened at a meditation center, blame is always being assigned at a dharma center, constantly, everyday, more so than in normal life. I felt blamed a lot and saw where blame was being unfairly pointed towards others, too. At the very time when I was the most overwhelmed, I didn’t know how to work with the blame that was assigned to me, so I started to withdraw and close in on myself.

In expounding on lojong teachings, Ani Pema Chodron has written (for complete text, please go to Shambhala Sun article),

“Drive all blames into one. This is advice on how to work with your fellow beings. Everyone is looking for someone to blame and therefore aggression and neurosis keep expanding. Instead, pause and look at what’s happening with you. When you hold on so tightly to your view of what they did, you get hooked. Your own self-righteousness causes you to get all worked up and to suffer. So work on cooling that reactivity rather than escalating it. This approach reduces suffering - yours and everyone else’s.”

Why didn’t people know this at a dharma center!? Well, why didn’t I know it too?

Also from Ani Pema Chodron (for complete text, please go to Shambhala Sun article),

“Be grateful to everyone. Others will always show you exactly where you are stuck. They say or do something and you automatically get hooked into a familiar way of reacting—shutting down, speeding up or getting all worked up. When you react in the habitual way, with anger, greed and so forth, it gives you a chance to see your patterns and work with them honestly and compassionately. Without others provoking you, you remain ignorant of your painful habits and cannot train in transforming them into the path of awakening.”

Oh, yeah.

The Dechen Choling administrative office

On some days I am much more grateful for my Dechen Choling experience than other days. But I know from living at Dechen Choling, that I was given a great teaching, one I have yet to truly learn. My view on life is that whatever comes into one’s life brings love or joy, or brings a teaching that one needs to learn: karma in a nutshell. I am pretty sure that I did not yet learn all that I needed to learn at Dechen Choling; I am confident that the teachings of feeling stuck will return again and again, until I really get it. Oh dear.

And so, would I recommend living at a meditation center?  Yes, and no.

For me, living at a dharma center is about losing your cocoon, losing comfort, dropping expectations and wants, and working with mind. It can be intense and painful, and wonderful, too. The happiest people on staff were those who came for short periods of time (one to three months), and who didn’t have many needs (i.e., happy to sleep in a tent all summer and comfortable sharing their space, having no privacy or needing to move tents at the last minute). These people seemed happy to do any assigned job, were committed to daily meditation practice and did not have too much responsibility.

Confolens, Limousin - 135 km southwest of Dechen Choling

If this describes how you might volunteer at a practice center, you will most likely enjoy your time as long as you are practicing every day. For anyone coming for longer than six months, this is when things seem to change, with irritations and neurosis coming up no matter if they are the best Buddhist practitioner in the world. The people who did not seem to work out so well were those who did not want to practice, whether they were joining for a few days or a few months. Therefore, my best recommendation for living at practice center is to practice every day. And my recommendation for staying longer than six months is to make a commitment to stay. Things will become irritating and uncomfortable, but it’s better to work with the situation than to run. If you have the impulse, I do recommend living at a practice center; but if you would like to avoid pain, discomfort and irritability, and if you value comfort, it’s definitely best to avoid this experience. Good luck!

The author is former Head of Personnel at Dechen Choling. Photos by the author.

Pond at Karme Choling. Photo by Charlene Leung

By Margot Becker

For a long time, I’ve wished to open a discussion with the sangha about compassionate action in the world.  A few months ago, I got my chance.  I receive a fundraising letter from President Reoch.  I was disappointed—again—that the request was solely about improving our centers, our curriculum, our infrastructure.  While these projects are of the utmost importance, I always feel sad—and perhaps a little angry—that we are not working together, collectively, to bring our compassion, energy, resources and love to those in the world who are suffering.  So I wrote to President Reoch, who kindly responded.  This short piece is a continuation of that conversation, and I hope many of you will join in on these pages.

To state it baldly, I believe our sangha is not doing enough for others.  As I see it, our sangha is, for the most part, fairly comfortable.  We do not live in a country of war.  Most of us do not experience daily hunger, and we do not have to watch our children go to bed with empty stomachs night after night. Most of us have a place to sleep at night, rather than a homeless shelter or a street.  Most of us do not work at jobs that pay just pennies a day. Most of us are not incarcerated in prisons.  And of course, we have the great good fortune to hear and practice the Dharma.  This is not the case for so many others throughout the world.

In the requests for funding for our sangha, I began to smell a “collective me.”  We seek to make our own community safe and strong and secure.  And yet, there have been no requests for donations to do good works that benefit others who experience far more danger, fear, want and vulnerability.  And right along side with donations, we do not work together to make these good works happen.

When I first communicated with President Reoch about this, he told me about all of the wonderful good works our sangha members are doing individually and he directed me to the Social Service Network web page that describes some of these inspiring efforts.  Nonetheless, I feel a good Buddhist community can and must make collective efforts to reach out to those who suffer.  If I am not wrong, this is the great Mahayana work that none of us can afford to leave out of our practice.  I can’t say it strongly enough:  our sangha—so based in the transformative power of compassion—needs to take this on.

I believe—and perhaps President Reoch is with me on this—that with open hearts and some good creative thinking, our centers can design and carry out gorgeous acts of kindness.  We would be challenged to open our eyes to the realities around us, think creatively about addressing problems, open our wallets so that we have the material means to actualize our projects, and offer the energy necessary make things happen. It would be an opportunity for all of us to see clearly, take on responsibility, and manifest the active compassion of warriors in the world.

A half a dozen projects come to my mind without much work—projects in our own towns and cities…  projects in Tibet and India…  projects that help kids or older people or just regular folks who face the difficulties of daily life… projects that provide food, clothing, schooling, comfort… projects that provide what we all value most—meditation instruction and Dharma wisdom.  But my solo thoughts are probably a lot less interesting that what we can come up with together.  Personally, I am very curious—and excited—to experience the outrageous garden that will blossom when we as a sangha plant the seeds of collective love and beauty.

I believe that if we the sangha take this on, Shambhala will support us.  So please, become inspired… and comment below with your thoughts and feelings.  Ki ki! So so!

Click here to visit the Shambhala the Social Service Network web page.

The entrance to Dechen Choling

Dechen Choling, le centre résidentiel européen, est un lieu magique, tantôt rempli de grande félicité, comme l’indique son nom (Dechen = Grande Félicité, Choling = Lieu du Dharma), tantôt plein d’orages créés par les esprits collectifs et individuels qui s’y trouvent. Situé près de Limoges, en France, Dechen Choling abrite un vieux château magnifique, d’anciens bâtiments en pierre et une nouvelle salle de méditation. Tout autour, il y a des champs luxuriants, des vaches, des pistes de randonnées et des arbres centenaires. Et puis, il y a des gens, des centaines de gens, qui vont et qui viennent, de nouveaux visages tout au long de l’année. En 2008, j’en faisais partie.

Venir à Dechen Choling a été une décision à la fois difficile et facile. Facile parce que je désirais ardemment y venir pour travailler, pratiquer et contribuer à ma façon à créer une société éveillée. Mais c’était aussi une décision difficile à cause de raisons d’ordre plus matériel. “Est-ce que je peux me permettre d’avoir une baisse de salaire de 90% sur deux ans ? Ma carrière va-t-elle en souffrir ? Pourrai-je retrouver un emploi en quittant ce lieu ? Comment vais-je me débrouiller financièrement après ?” et ainsi de suite.

The chateau, Dechen Choling

J’étais venue à Dechen Choling pour participer à la retraite ngöndro en décembre 2007. Je discutais avec l’Acharya Mathias Pongracz qui tentait de me magnétiser pour que je décide d’y vivre. Nous avons tiré le Yi King ensemble. L’image qui en sortit indiquait que je devais rejoindre “la voie” ou continuer à “aller clopin-clopant”. C’est alors que j’ai décidé de me lancer dans ce territoire incertain, en laissant de côté toutes les raisons qui me poussaient à ne pas venir. J’ai donc dit oui et me voilà arrivée en avril 2008, toute contente et désireuse de servir la sangha du mieux que je pouvais. Mais en me lançant ainsi dans le vide, j’ai fait une longue chute douloureuse pendant mon année à Dechen Choling.

Mes premiers mois ici – avril, mai et juin 2008 – ont été un pur bonheur. De nombreuses personnes avaient travaillé dur pendant des mois pour préparer le Festival de Gesar, le plus grand programme jamais organisé à Dechen Choling, avec le Sakyong, Son Éminence Namkha Drimed Rinpoché, Gyetrul Jigme Rinpoché, ainsi que la future Sakyong Wangmo. C’était vraiment une très belle période.

The author's home for a few weeks

Malgré mes propres inquiétudes, les gens autour de moi avaient une grande confiance en mes capacités en tant que responsable des ressources humaines. Vu mon manque d’expérience dans le domaine, me voir investir de la responsabilité de gérer presque 80 volontaires à Dechen Choling en pleine effervescence était un sacré défi. Je suis aussi tombée amoureuse à cette époque-là – mais c’est une toute autre histoire. Les premiers mois de mon séjour à Dechen Choling ont été les plus merveilleux de toute ma vie avant que le bombardement du dharma ne commence.

Je me rappelle avoir lu un texte où Chogyam Trungpa Rinpoché parle de confier des postes de responsabilité à des étudiants qui ne seraient pas encore prêts afin que leur esprit soit pétri et façonné par l’expérience. Lors de mon séjour à Dechen Choling l’année dernière, j’ai sauté dans le mixeur alors que je n’étais pas aussi prête qu’on s’était imaginé. Tout s’est effondré, ma névrose a éclaté pour de bon, et le tourbillon de Dechen Choling a lancé le mixeur à toute allure. Et puis, à mi-chemin, le mixeur a été débranché.

Dechen Choling staff meeting

Je me demande parfois si c’est mon tour d’assumer le titre de la “pire bouddhiste du monde”, parce que je ne me suis jamais vraiment habituée au mixeur. Peut-être me fallait-il plus de temps, plus de soutien et de patience. En quittant Dechen Choling en mars 2009, je me sentais hypersensible et désarçonnée. Et pourtant je sais que j’ai fait du chemin en me remettant en question et en digérant les effets de cette année écoulée.

C’était une expérience intense, une période de bonheur intense suivie d’une période de solitude, de souffrance et de perte de confiance. Quand je réfléchis à ce qui s’est passé, mon esprit est attiré par le mot “blâme”. On cherche toujours quelqu’un à blâmer. Et d’après moi, dans un centre de méditation où on vit les émotions intensément, on cherche quelqu’un à blâmer encore plus que n’importe où ailleurs. On m’a fait beaucoup de reproches et j’ai aussi vu des gens qui étaient blâmés à tort. Comme j’étais trop émue pour savoir comment faire face à tous ces reproches, j’ai fini par me replier sur moi-même.

Pema Chodron dit :

“Ramène à toi tous les blâmes. Il s’agit d’un conseil qui nous apprend comment travailler avec nos congénères. Tout le monde cherche quelqu’un à blâmer. Par conséquent, l’agression et la névrose continuent d’augmenter. Au lieu de cela, arrêtez-vous un instant et observez ce qui se passe en vous. Quand vous tenez coûte que coûte à votre vision de ce que les autres ont fait, vous en devenez accro. Vous croyez avoir toujours raison, vous vous énervez et vous en souffrez. Essayez donc de tempérer cette réactivité plutôt que de la laisser s’intensifier. Cette approche permet de réduire la souffrance – la vôtre et celle des autres.”

Pourquoi ces gens qui habitent dans un centre du dharma ne le savaient-ils pas !? Eh bien, pourquoi je ne le savais pas, moi ?

Pema Chodron dit aussi :

“Sois reconnaissant envers tous. Les autres vous montreront toujours ce qui fait blocage chez vous, votre point faible. Ils disent ou font quelque chose, et vous y réagissez automatiquement – en vous renfermant, en vous précipitant ou en vous mettant dans tous vos états. Quand vous réagissez selon vos habitudes – par la colère, l’avarice etc. – cela vous donne l’occasion d’observer de près vos schémas habituels et de travailler sur eux de façon honnête et avec compassion. Sans les autres qui vous provoquent, vous ne pouvez pas prendre conscience de vos habitudes pénibles et par conséquent vous ne pouvez pas vous entraîner pour les transformer en une voie d’éveil.”

Ben oui!

The Dechen Choling administrative office

Il y a des jours où je suis beaucoup plus reconnaissante pour mon expérience à Dechen Choling que d’autres. Mais je sais que cette expérience a été pour moi un grand enseignement – il me reste encore à l’appliquer dans la vie. Je pense que tout ce qui arrive dans la vie nous apporte de l’amour ou de la joie, ou un enseignement que nous devons en tirer – bref du karma. Je sais que je n’ai pas encore tiré toutes les leçons de ce que j’ai appris à Dechen Choling. Je suis persuadée que les enseignements me montreront encore et encore mes blocages jusqu’à ce que je finisse par comprendre. Oh là là !

Alors, est-ce je vous recommanderais de vivre dans un centre de méditation ? Oui et non.

Pour moi, vivre dans un centre du dharma signifie perdre notre cocon, notre zone de confort, oublier les attentes et les envies, et travailler sur notre esprit. Ça peut s’avérer intense et pénible mais également merveilleux. Les gens les plus heureux de l’équipe étaient ceux et celles qui étaient là pour de courtes périodes – un à trois mois – leurs besoins étaient minimes Ils étaient contents de dormir sous la tente pendant tout l’été. Partager leur espace avec d’autres personnes, le manque d’intimité, ou être obligé de changer de tente à la dernière minute ne les dérangeaient pas. Ces gens semblaient heureux de s’acquitter de n’importe quelle tâche qui leur était attribuée. Ils pratiquaient la méditation régulièrement et n’avaient pas trop de responsabilité.

Confolens, Limousin - 135 km south-west of Dechen Choling

Si c’est une bonne description de ce qui vous attend en tant que bénévole dans un centre de méditation, alors très probablement vous profiterez bien de votre séjour à condition de pratiquer tous les jours. Si vous venez pour plus de six mois, vous verrez que les choses se mettent à changer. Même les meilleurs pratiquants bouddhistes du monde doivent faire face à leurs propres irritations et névroses. Qu’on y vienne pour quelques jours ou quelques mois, on rencontre des difficultés surtout si on ne pratique pas. Pour vivre dans un centre de pratique, le mieux est donc de pratiquer tous les jours. Et si vous souhaitez y passer plus de six mois, je vous recommanderais de prendre un engagement de rester – malgré l’irritation et les moments difficiles, mieux vaut y faire face que fuir. Je vous encourage à vivre dans un centre si vous en avez envie. Mais si vous voulez éviter les difficultés, le manque de confort et l’irritabilité pour vous sentir rassuré, alors il vaut mieux éviter cette expérience. Bonne chance !

L’auteur Ex Responsable des Ressources Humaines à Dechen Choling

By Waylon H. Lewis

It may well be ironic, in a community founded upon the notion of impermanence—a community formed by Chogyam Trungpa Rinpoche, the rug-pulling, cocoon-popping pioneer who first succeeded in making the genuine Buddhadharma fully accessible to the modern West—that we are still so excited, and upset, by change.

For change, we know, is the only constant.

You want to talk about change? Trungpa Rinpoche, in 17 years, created something very much like a kingdom. Just when Rinpoche was really building this wonderful Buddhist community, he discovered the Shambhala teachings, including that of the Rigden and the primordial Ashe—to the consternation of many of his students. In translating his Tibetan Buddhism into our Western way of life, he promulgated the Dorje Kasung (to the consternation of many of this students), the Dharma Arts including promulgated Kyudo, Miksang, Ikebana and Mudra theater and poetry. He designed a new, Western/Japanese/Tibetan Buddhist shrine, encouraged his early hippie students to tame their hair and dress like bankers. He founded the Vajradhatu Seminary (where he prepared Western students to receive the Vajrayana teachings for the first time). He formed the deleks (designed to further communication within an ever-growing sangha), as well as groups for businesspeople, for those dealing with addiction, and for the mediation of disputes, including divorce. He founded a preschool, Alaya; a middle and high school, Vidya (forebear to the Shambhala School in Halifax); the first Buddhist college in America, Naropa; and nearly 150 meditation centers, both rural and urban, including the Boulder Shambhala Center, Shambhala Mountain, and Karme Choling. In his final coup de grace, he asked many of his students to move from the liberal, hip, affluent Boulder, Colorado to the traditional, ocean-bound, relatively poor Canadian city of Halifax.

And in the 17 years since his death, time has not stood still. When I came of age, having completed the 16-year-old Rites of Passage with Will Ryken and Mitchell Levy, the kingdom in which I had been raised was falling apart…

Read the rest of the article on www.elephantjournal.com. Shown here with permission.

As Susan Williams has pointed out in her introduction to the Spring Equinox theme for the Shambhala Times, families are made up of multiple generations: children, parents and grandparents, not to mention aunts, uncles, cousins and, in Shambhala, all those wonderful people we call “sangha” who may not be blood relations (in this lifetime), but somehow are so closely connected to us in the grand scheme of things that they seem like family. For some of us, the members of the Mukpo Clan may in practice be our closest relatives.

Old age is as much a part of family life as is childhood or adolescence. Years ago it was common for grandparents to be living with their children and grandchildren. Today, the oldest members of a family are frequently separate from the rest physically, and often emotionally.

Many sangha families are currently involved in the long-distance process of trying to help elderly parents who live far away. In this issue, see Meg Federico’s book, Welcome to the Departure Lounge, for one sangha member’s very difficult experience.

The demographics of Shambhala society, like that of North America in general, have a large bulge in the 45-60 age bracket. Currently, 50% of Shambhalians are in that age range, with 20% being over age 60.

Clearly, in the next 10-20 years, there will be a lot of old people in Shambhala society. They will be our relatives: parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles and members of the Mukpo clan. They will be us.

How will we, in Shambhala society, work with the multi-generational issue? To what extent will we maintain the connection between the young and the old? How will we relate to the needs of the older generation (whether or not they have children) as they become more in need of support?

These are questions for all of us to contemplate. They are also the focus for the Shambhala Working Group on Aging, a working group of the Sakyong’s Council. (Click here to visit our webpage.)

One important step in beginning to work with the “koan” of aging in Shambhala may be to keep the larger view of families in mind.

We know how easily you are imprinted and impressed by whatever we present to you in your early months and years. Once born in this world, depending on circumstance, chances are you will face mostly songs of hatred, advertisements or meaningless fantasies. Since you were attracted to the Shambhala sangha, we must provide you with a more meaningful welcome. All human beings may pass this way again one day, after all.

So, what do we have for you? Real Shambhala nursery rhymes (not just “London Bridge is falling down…”), or passages from our beloved Gesar Epic in adapted format, just for you, dear ones?

Let’s see what manene [Tibetan: auntie] Carolyn Gimian says about this: “I don’t know of any nursery rhymes such as you describe. I think it would be wonderful and certainly something that the Vidyadhara would have loved. Perhaps the Sakyong and Khandro Tseyang will work on that kind of thing if they have children soon. Gesar Epic stories are also a great idea; something I suppose we all would love.”

Yes, most of us are just mavericks from the setting sun world. We were raised with a lot of mental pooh-pooh and are not yet properly prepared for your arrival. At the moment, we can sing KI KI and SO SO around, just to help you to gom [Tibetan: to become familiar] with the sounds. If our Sakyong composes songs for you, we might next enjoy lectures on how to translate nursery rhymes by Uncle Larry and other experts—and we would love it, no doubt!

For now, let’s just think back: had we not heard certain rare bedtime stories, fairy tales—in short, been nurtured with seeds of the desire to see beyond the five senses—would we ever have aspired to step out of the materialistic hallucination? We need something like this for you at the very beginning of your life, but something better than what we had.

So here is a prayer: Bards of Shambhala, please think of the fresh minds of our newborns. If there is nobody who can still fathom this pristine dream, let us supplicate our Sakyong: may he inspire us, may he help us, and push us further.

You, precious and tender roots of enlightened society, are worth a few inspired and simple songs, aren’t you?

W. Eugene Smith, courtesy of www.smithfund.org

In 1968, when I was 17 years old and coming into adult consciousness about the world, waking up to the need for progress in human societies, I visited New York to see an exhibit of “Paris, May 1968” poster work.

I spent my formative years – the latter half of the Sixties – in Palo Alto, California, witnessing the early hippie era (and collecting the psychedelic posters of rock concerts held in nearby San Francisco), as well as the free-speech, antiwar and anti-draft demonstrations that took place in the Bay Area.

There was an atmosphere of freshness, vitality and change to 1968. Not only in Paris – where in May, students, workers and labor unions united against and brought down the old government – or Czechoslovakia (“Prague Spring”) or Poland (“Marzec 1968”), but around the world. In South America, although Che Guevara had been assassinated by the Americans, his reform and revolution movement continued to grow.

In the United States, a poet-senator, Eugene McCarthy, was running for president on a peace platform, as was the younger brother of President Kennedy. Young people were excited and participating in politics, but in a politics of societal and cultural advancement. The Civil Rights Act had passed Congress, women were beginning to stand up for more rights, even homosexuals were threatening to leap out of their closets.

Poster by L'atelier Populaire, Paris 1968

Calls for peace, the end of poverty and better automobile fuel efficiency were announced openly on television, on radio and in the print media. The film 2001: A Space Odyssey was released, and over in England the Beatles announced the formation of Apple Corps, which was going to spawn a new and friendlier variety of capitalism. The collective, rather than the hierarchical, was the new mode.

There was violence, too – by August 1968, “Prague Spring” was crushed by a Soviet invasion of 200,000 troops and 2,000 tanks. Dr. Martin Luther King and Senator Robert Kennedy were both assassinated; even Andy Warhol was shot, by a radical feminist. The war in Vietnam would continue for seven years more, ultimately ravaging that country for 18 years total.

It was that summer, on my visit to the Museum of Modern Art, that I discovered the photography of Edward Steichen. My love of history and biography was ignited by coming across The Family of Man, a book based on an earlier MOMA exhibit curated by Steichen.

Poster by L'atelier Populaire, Paris 1968

In The Family of Man, Steichen presents portraits of people from all over the world, illustrating themes common to all cultures, such as love, children and death. This collection, along with the May 1968 street posters from Paris, galvanized in me something undefined but palpable, a feeling of being connected to many others. This seed within would develop gingerly, tentatively, flowering in the next decade when I first read Chogyam Trungpa’s book Shambhala: The Sacred Path of the Warrior.

Decades later, we find ourselves in another era of change – yes, change we can believe in, but also change beyond our control. Financial, social and bio-ecological systems are in collapse. Answers to questions of race, culture, language and relationships elude us. Methods and maps to security, well-being and connectedness are being redrawn, rediscovered.

Yet we do feel connected. The whole world – not just America – seeks a more perfect union, not merely social or economic integrity but a personal, intimate connection with the planet itself as an equal partner. We continue to learn, and to learn again and again, that what we share far outweighs what separates us.

Poster by L'atelier Populaire, Paris 1968

These days, I find that my family has expanded beyond my geneaology of “Euro-American of French and Celt heritage.” Through my ex-partner, a man from Hong Kong who remains a dear friend, I am linked to Chinese in-laws and a village in Guangzhou. Through my husband Christopher’s African, Caribbean and Native American lineage, I have a new brother and sister, nieces and nephews, and ancestors on two continents. (And through Christopher’s ex, a man from Finland now partnered with a man from Brazil, we are linked again to yet more places and cultures.)

In the kingdom of Shambhala, we have family everywhere – on six, possibly seven continents, in most major cities, smaller towns and even minor hamlets. Our humanity, our good heart, bind us together. For me, all of this is my family – husband, community and planet.

Photo courtesty of Marc Matheson & Christopher Miles

By Gale Young

“It’s okay Gale” my long time professional partner, an African American, said in 1992, “Sunday is the most segregated time in America. Relax. It’s your white ethnic experience”.  Except for the Level One instructor, I hadn’t seen another person of color in either the San Francisco or Berkeley Centers and inquiries about the role of diversity in an enlightened society elicited visible discomfort.

Eighteen years later thanks to the dedication of the Diversity Working Group (DWG), (constituted by Shambhala International in 2005) with inspired leadership from Cortez Rainey and now Sekayi Stringer all centers are encouraged to display the Shambhala Diversity Aspirations, we have scholarships for People of Color to attend programs, and a magnificent Shambhala Diversity web page with an abundant array of resources including listservs, programs, books and articles, contemplations, simulations, speeches, research results,  DWG annual reports and much more.  Some Centers offer special sits and groups for a variety of diversity groups, e.g. LBGT, People of Color. The home page acknowledges that although our practice of meditation cultivates the capacity to open to all individuals, social groups and cultures that

“This does not mean that Shambhala is a perfect society. If you visit one of our centres, you may find that it does not mirror in every way the characteristics of the people who live in the cities or towns where our centres are located. But please note that it is the intention—and the stated policy—of our centres to welcome everyone who enters. This intention is at the very core of the Shambhala Buddhist teachings.”

There is a saying that the “answer to how is yes”. Principles are in place with all the right resources and available means to manifest genuine diversity. We have the how.  Yet I remain reluctant when friends and colleagues of color express interest in coming to meditate with me.  That our primarily White sangha, in leadership, membership, curriculum, and outreach blares a glaring message is true but what makes me most hesitant, and many would suggest underlies the problem, is the visible discomfort among many White Shambhalians around issues of race and diversity. I believe as White Anglo European Americans, and especially as White Shambhalians we have two special responsibilities: (1) To study and contemplate the inheritance of race and its embodiment in our body, speech, and mind; and (2) To develop skillful and compassionate means to listen and speak cross race lines and about difficult issues.

In this year of the Earth Ox, I dream of White Shambhalians saying YES to an Enlightened Diverse Society in four ways:

Study. We will read and talk about the karma of Benjamin Franklin advocating for the U.S. to be for the “lovely whites” studying history texts, essays, stories documentaries, films by and about people of color including those written by Buddhists of color. We will understand that race, a social construction, without a trace of DNA to support it, emerged in the U.S. as an economic and efficient way to access and control cheap labor and the oft-times unconscious possessive investment in this construction, has mutated into today’s laws, public policies and accepted norms perpetuating both discrimination against people of color and privileging Whites. *

Contemplate. We will contemplate, alone and in group practice, the inheritance of race and how it affects our own perceptions and attitudes about ourselves, other whites, and those we see as racially different. We will understand the research results that show a persistent and significant discrepancy between how People of Color and Whites experience the racial climate in the U.S. and the levels of discrimination.  We will contemplate the unconscious and unearned privilege that comes with being racially similar to other members of the dominant group manifest in such comments as “I don’t see color, I see human beings, a man or a woman, an American”.**

Practice. We will mindfully and bravely engage racially potent messages such as white privilege and white racism, and the absence of diversity. When, for example, U.S. Attorney General Holder recently said that we are “a nation of cowards when it comes to having frank conversations about race”, we can ask ourselves in what ways do we each manifest that forwardness? We will notice when we want to space out, change the topic, get defensive, argue, remain silent, tend to globalize our own experience and assume intentions and the dharma are enough. Gambill’s searing 1958 speech on ways to steal human rights from American Indians will remind us of the everyday choices we make.***  Three such choices involve: Consistently choosing to place Diversity issues as the item last on the agenda or as ITA, “if time allows”; Choosing to place a few people of color in the upper echelons of the organization, hold them up as examples of the lack of bias while maintaining the status quo; or Choosing to view diversity in competition with other ‘more important concerns’.

Sangha. As White Shambhalians we will support people of color programs and groups and will organize Whiteness groups to study, contemplate, and practice our growing understanding of America’s race karma. I imagine us integrating the study, contemplation and practice of diversity and intercultural relations into all that we do for the dream of an Enlightened Diverse Society.

* Lipsitz, G. (1998). The possessive investment in whiteness: How white people profit from identity politics. Philadelphia: Temple University Press.
**  Young, G. (1998) Leonard’s Yard: Pulling at the roots and responsibilities of my whiteness in Among us: Essays on identity, belonging, and intercultural competence. Eds M.Lustig and  J. Koester. New York: Longman Inc
***  Gambill., J. (1983). On the art of stealing human rights. Knepler, H.W., Knepler, M. Kane,K. Crossing cultures:. Readings for composition.  New York

Gale Young, Ph.D, a white European American middle class heterosexual able bodied woman with the great good fortune to have mentors, colleagues, and friends of color, different genders and sexual orientations as collaborators, co-authors, co-coordinators, and co-directors of projects seeking to move the higher education toward an inclusive multicultural learning experience.  A professor of intercultural and conflict communication, she has served as Co-Director for the Study of Intercultural Relations, Affirmative Action Liaison Officer and currently is an Associate Dean, and the Chair of the Communication Department at Cal-State University East Bay in Northern California. She is a devoted student of Sakyong Mipham.

Communicating the dharma in human language is a translation from the beginning. Realized beings point at the inexpressible essence through various means, transmissions, signs, dakini language and eventually human language. In addition, some translated already existing texts, as did, for instance, Vairochana, Marpa, and Chögyam Trungpa Rinpoche.

Trungpa Rinpoche gave the title of translators to some who knew human languages and had some level of practice and training, but were not necessarily endowed with high realization. He gathered them in a group known as the Nalanda Translation Committee (NTC). This group translated a number of texts, and in this process set standards for translations within the Shambhala mandala.

Since then, as the mandala continued to grow throughout the world beyond Indo-Tibetan and English speaking areas, the necessity for translating the Shambhala dharma into other languages increased irresistibly. English is not yet the universal language of our world, and people need to receive the dharma with all its subtleties in a language that they do understand—we mean understand, not just vaguely comprehend.

Trungpa Rinpoche actually went beyond just translating texts into English. He restored the original meaning of English words and—only when necessary—bent the language by introducing “dharma English”, in order to make it suitable to convey the dharma properly. Other languages may not have benefited directly from this work, but it gives pretty good hints for doing something similar in other languages. Now, how useful is translation work? Just imagine that all texts for practice and study be available exclusively in Tibetan or Sanskrit, eventually Pali. [Could you clarify this last sentence - what do you mean?]

In our sangha, in addition to practice texts and sometimes new termas, which are here to stay for some time, there is also a constant flow of texts and letters which irrigate the mandala, and need to be known and understood before they are utterly obsolete. They are all originally sent out solely in English. However these are usually less subtle and therefore less difficult to translate for the local—and most often excruciatingly small—translation groups.

How, ideally, does a translation committee work in our mandala? If one relies on the NTC standard, you need dharma practitioners already trained in translation work, who know Tibetan and Sanskrit and who work as a team, hand-in-hand with at least one bilingual lama. At this stage, most groups other than the NTC translate from English into the local language, referring to Tibetan or Sanskrit for details. They tackle translation emergencies as best as possible. In all groups, translators have to be sangha members and practitioners. Other criteria do exist: translation is a practice and specifically a group practice. Texts are signed by the committee as a whole [do you mean "assigned"? Please clarify]. Ego-trips are [definitely?] discouraged. Translators’ constant preoccupation is to dispel linguistic obstacles for practitioners for whom the challenge of the teachings is already big enough.

Author’s footnotes: in reference to “the teacher’s milkmen,” quite a few are actually women. And in reference to “Other languages may not have benefited directly from this work,” some members of the original NTC were fluent in Spanish and French, which has been quite helpful for the development of the respective local translation groups.

Participants at a People of Color Level I program directed by Acharya Arawana Hayashi and assisted by then-Diversity Working Group chair Cortez Rainey. Berkeley, California, 2008. Photograph by Charlene Leung.

Recently, a long time sangha member, a person of color, attending a vajrayana program, shared with me her experience of being greeted at a Shambhala land center entrance and asked if she was lost and needed directions.

This has happened many times to her and, unfortunately, I’ve heard the same story from newcomers at urban Shambhala Centers. Despite possibly good intentions, a sense of not being welcomed or not belonging is conveyed.

As Acharya Gaylon Ferguson writes, “People of color in the West grow up in societies saturated with ideas and values that invalidate their very existence.”

Contemplate for a moment what it feels like to be the “only one” in a group.  If you are European-American, imagine you are in a group of all African-Americans, Latinos or Asians.  How do you feel? What adjectives come to mind?

As a Chinese American female, growing up in white neighborhoods in the 60’s, I experienced being the only one almost every day of my life.  It was scary.

When my family was looking for a house in California, there were neighborhoods we were told we would not be welcomed. Less than 100 years ago, over 40,000 of my people were deported or killed in California. We became the only nationality to be legally banned from immigrating to the United States. This continued  for a period of 60 years and ended when the Chinese Exclusion Act was repealed in 1945.

So I grew up unconsciously feeling guarded, vulnerable, unsure of why I felt like I didn’t belong. I did not want to be recognized as being different, so I tried either to make myself invisible or I tried to excel, so if noticed, it was for being good.

Now imagine what it feels like to be with “your people,” however you define that. What adjectives come to mind?  For me: safe, open, seen.

Now imagine sitting in meditation and opening to basic goodness, which is always available.

Historically, there has been under-representation of people of color in the Shambhala mandala.  At the first Shambhala Congress in 2003, the sangha identified diversity as one of the top pressing community issues.   The Diversity Working Group was formed and the Shambhala aspiration for diversity was developed.  As stated on the Shambhala website diversity page: “What we share as a community is a desire to lead sane, dignified, and confident lives. Through the practice of meditation we cultivate the capacity to be fully open to our experience, and the ability to respond to everyday life situations with greater clarity and respect - respect not only for our life situations and ourselves, but for all individuals, social groups and cultures as well.”

We all benefit from opening to the richness of diversity and to our interconnectedness. To begin to dissolve the boundaries some people of color experience in Shambhala, Acharya Pema Chodron encouraged the Northern California Shambhala sangha to offer meditation programs specifically for people of color.  Rev. Ryumon Gutierrez Baldoquin (a Soto Zen priest with much experience leading these programs) and Acharya Gaylon Ferguson led the first of two such programs in 2006 & 2007 at the Berkeley Shambhala Center.

The first Shambhala Training Level I for people of color was held in Berkeley in October, 2008, with Acharya Arawana Hayashi directing.  The Philadelphia Shambhala Center recently held a  Level I for people of color directed by Elaine Yuen.  People of color dharma programs have also been held at Shambhala Centers in Chicago and New York.

A common sentiment among participants was how reassuring it was to know they would not be in the minority at a Shambhala Center, and how important it was to feel both safe and seen, acknowledged for their uniqueness and vulnerability as people of color in a predominantly white organization.

We cannot ignore the history of oppression in the United States.  By acknowledging that oppression, we begin to dissolve the barriers it has created for so many people of all colors, including whites.  At some point it may be important for white people to meet to discuss diversity and how it affects them and their vision of Shambhala.  Sharing candidly with people who share common experience can be quite powerful.

For example the “Commission on the Status of Women and the Feminine Principle” has been in existence for some time to address feminine principle in Buddhism as well as sexism in Shambhala.  Programs to look at racism and bias have been held in Shambhala Centers in Baltimore, New York, Philadelphia and at Shambhala Mountain Center.

Eventually, we hope all cultural, ethnic, religious and minority groups can join together in an atmosphere of openness to discuss assumptions and preconceptions regarding diversity.  We can start by creating a sense of safety. As Acharya Pema Chodron titled her book, Start Where You Are, we must start where we are.  Shambhala is about creating enlightened society.  If someone is having a problem, we meet them where they are. They are our guests.  If a guest feels unwelcome we do what we can to make them feel more welcome.

At a recent Shambhala Training Level V Completion ceremony, a gentleman of color expressed heartfelt gratitude for the special people of color programs. He faulted himself for not coming to Shambhala earlier as he felt discomfort as a person of color, but it was having the special program that made the difference and helped him step beyond hesitation and begin Shambhala Training.

Reverse Discrimination?

Some people may wonder, isn’t having programs that exclude whites a form of reverse discrimination?  Reverse discrimination refers to a situation in which a white person and a non-white person are competing for one position and, although the white person may be more qualified, the person of color gets the position.  In the case of a special Shambhala program, whites lose nothing and everybody gains. The teachings reach a wider audience and the Shambhala mandala becomes more diverse.

Of course diversity work in Shambhala is much bigger than ethnicity or skin color. It is about the inclusion of all people so that the teachings reach a wider audience.  People of color is a sub-group of diversity and its programs are a temporary tool. The aspiration is that some day Shambhala is so diverse that all people feel welcome.  That includes people with disabilities, people with children, people who speak other languages, who come from different socio economic backgrounds, who have different sexual orientations and/or who have different racial and ethnic heritages.