Sunday

Gentle Third Jewel

The 2009 Sangha Retreat at Shambhala Mountain Center, by Chase Bauer

During the summer months at Shambhala Mountain Center, the grass has a certain shine to it. The sky has a unique boom. It was the warmest and most dynamic welcome to the hundreds of participants arriving on the land for the Sangha Retreat. The land was vibrating with the energy of the preceding Scorpion Seal Assembly, as practitioners of all levels and backgrounds filled all available housing.

What excitement to have the opportunity to spend a week in the presence of Sakyong Mipham Rinpochel, Acharya Pema Chodron, and Acharya Adam Lobel. Having never done a program with the Sakyong and having become extremely involved in this sangha, it was important to me to spend time around him before his yearlong retreat. As a summer volunteer, I had enjoyed seeing him come and go, always waving and smiling as we carried on with our duties. But it was a blessing to spend an entire retreat receiving his teachings.

I love to imagine the setting in which Pema leaned in and asked, “Rinpoche, what exactly is the theme of this retreat?” It’s true. None of the participants, staff, or even some of the teachers knew what we were going to be learning this week. The Sakyong’s response fell quickly and cleanly onto the table, “Strength, which comes from gentleness towards oneself, and manifests as non-aggression.” And so it was.

Gentleness: An Onion of a Word

Our tongues and our ears became well practiced in the word “gentleness.” It’s a simple word, but also a complete onion of a word. Throughout the week we peeled away layer after layer of aggression. It became apparent to me that gentleness is truly the framework upon which enlightened society is built. I felt grateful and strengthened to be involved in the creation of a culture that is rooted in gentleness and bravery.

It is rare to hear Pema Chodron teach these days, so it was our extreme good fortune to have her there, and it is hard to imagine a retreat based on gentleness without her. She has the tendency to turn Buddhists into groupies, and appropriately so. She is truly the star of western monasticism. Her clean, eloquent talks erased the dryness from almost every eye in the tent. Her words break the heart like eggshells. For me the most profound teaching she gave was in silence, though, when she came to sit, without any introduction, in complete silence on the teacher’s chair. Though no one began laughing hysterically, I couldn’t help but be reminded of the Flower Sermon.

I knew hardly anything about Acharya Adam Lobel before the retreat. He began to feel like the constant companion to the participants, giving talks and leading exercises nearly every day. His youth was refreshing for me, and I’m sure it was for the rest of the young participants in the crowd. His words were simple, inspiring, and perfectly humorous. In one exercise, I ended up holding a complete stranger as she opened to me in tears. It was then that I understood the profundity of what we were doing, or rather, undoing. We were reversing entire—and multiple—lives of aggression, one stitch at a time. On the final night, Acharya Lobel made his humility, compassion, and selflessness clear, as he sat at a candle lit table, speaking personally with anyone who wished to talk to him.

Golden Buddha: Gotcha!

On the second day of the retreat, my knees shook and my mouth was dry as I walked to the Great Stupa of Dharmakaya. The Sakyong asked to meet with us, in groups of sixty, to practice inside the monument together. We were told not to expect anything, to arrive at the Stupa as open as possible, which of course made me nuts. Ask any teacher who knows me well and they will tell you of my awkward, nervous clumsiness around them. And this was the Sakyong! I remember it was so hot, the sun was blazing, but I just had to keep my jacket on. I had to look nice—uplifted I called it at the time, as I sweat profusely.

The time came for our group to enter the Stupa. The Kasung guided us as we filed in to sit with the Sakyong, who sat elegantly in front of the golden Buddha. I chose a gomden directly in front of the throne, plopped down, and looked up to see Rinpoche looking straight in my eyes. To my surprise, the shaky knees and dry mouth had not come into the Stupa with me, and I couldn’t help but beam back at him. The moment seemed to last longer than a moment, when he suddenly made a funny face at me(!), sending my laughter echoing through the Stupa. For a brief second after that he gave an expression as if to say, “Gotcha.” That was the moment I realized the Sakyong is my teacher.

Towards the end of the retreat, the Third Jewel was dancing in 350 hearts at Shambhala Mountain Center. The Sakyong Wangmo joined us, and sang beautifully in a language our minds cannot understand, but in which our hearts are fluent. Instead of the typical banquet to close the week, we were entertained with a barbeque, live music, and ice cream. The night ended with the best Shambhala dance party I’ve attended. (I won’t say which one, but take my word for it that one of our teachers can boogie!)

The retreat felt like the preface of a book I will be reading for the rest of my life. It is no easy work to change our deeply rooted habitual patterns, and to begin using a gentle tone and gentle hands. I feel that many seeds were sown which will blossom sporadically throughout this chaotic world, and I hope our teacher, Sakyong Mipham Rinpoche, will hear our enthusiastic gratitude for this retreat. Eh ma ho!

Chase Bauer first fell in love with Chogyam Trungpa Rinoche when he read Sacred Path of the Warrior at age sixteen. He is currently a student in Buddhist Studies and Writing at Naropa University, and spent the summer working in Practice and Study at SMC. He recently became a Kenchung in the Chrysanthemum Regiment of the Dorje Kasung, and continues to devote himself to the Shambhala community.

Photo Credits: Brian Spielmann