The Collected Works of Chögyam Trungpa: Volume Eight (2 page)

A Biography of Chögyam Trungpa

Books by Chögyam Trungpa

Resources

Index

INTRODUCTION TO VOLUME EIGHT

T
HE
C
ONCISE
O
XFORD
D
ICTIONARY
lists as one of the primary definitions of a statesman, a “sagacious, far-sighted, practical politician.” While Chögyam Trungpa would probably not have been pleased to be called a politician, I believe that he would have been proud to be seen as a sagacious, far-sighted, and practical statesman. It is to those teachings in which he addresses himself to great matters of state, matters of culture and society, that we turn in Volume Eight. Many of these teachings fall under the broad umbrella of Shambhala vision or the Shambhala teachings, on which he focused from 1976 until his death in 1987. However, several earlier discussions of politics and political consciousness are also included here, as well as a very early and unusual article on warriorship and the martial arts.

In referring to matters of state, which is my use of the phrase, not his, the reference is to teachings that connect individual development or realization with the betterment of society as a whole. The Shambhala teachings are not nationalistic in that they do not promote the primacy of any particular nation-state. They are, instead, based on promoting the vision and the wisdom of the Kingdom of Shambhala, a society—perhaps mythical—in Central Asia, which is viewed as a model for enlightened society. The Shambhala tradition is associated with the
Kalachakra Tantra,
which Shakyamuni Buddha is said to have proclaimed in Shambhala. The Kingdom of Shambhala, according to some legends, ascended into a higher realm at some point in the past. Since the entire populace was enlightened, there was no further reason for the kingdom to exist on earth. However, it is said that Shambhala might reappear on the earth at a time when its wisdom is needed. Chögyam Trungpa himself often emphasized a more symbolic, psychological and spiritual interpretation of the story, saying that “there has long been a tradition that regards the Kingdom of Shambhala, not as an external place, but as the ground or root of wakefulness and sanity that exists as a potential within every human being” (
Shambhala: The Sacred Path of the Warrior
, chapter 1). In both
Shambhala: The Sacred Path of the Warrior
and
Great Eastern Sun: The Wisdom of Shambhala,
his major books on the Shambhala teachings, he makes the point that it is unnecessary to determine whether Shambhala actually existed. The point, he says, is to “appreciate and emulate the ideal of an enlightened society that it represents” (ibid.). In the introduction to
Shambhala,
Rinpoche says that his presentation of the Shambhala teachings “does not reveal any of the secrets from the Buddhist tantric tradition of Shambhala teachings, nor does it present the philosophy of the Kalacakra.” Rather, he says, “this book shows how to refine one’s life and how to propagate the true meaning of warriorship.”

Trungpa Rinpoche often used the image of the Shambhala Kingdom to talk about a broad and inclusive view, an ecumenical approach to spirituality that appreciates traditions of human wisdom and warriorship from around the world. In
Great Eastern Sun
, he wrote:

Shambhala vision applies to people of any faith, not just people who believe in Buddhism. Anyone can benefit from the . . . Shambhala vision, without its undermining their faith or their relationship with their minister, their priest, their bishop, their pope, whatever religious leaders they may follow. The Shambhala vision does not distinguish a Buddhist from a Catholic, a Protestant, a Jew, a Muslim, a Hindu. That’s why we called it the Shambhala
Kingdom
. A kingdom should have lots of different spiritual disciplines in it. (chapter 11)

In at least one talk, “Fully Human,” given at the Naropa Institute in 1978, he connects this ecumenical approach to a historical discussion of the Kingdom of Shambhala. Here, he speaks of the kingdom as having had an actual historical existence on the earth:

The Shambhala principle is our way of life. Shambhala [itself] is the Central Asian kingdom that developed in the [intersection of the] countries of the Middle East, Russia, China and Tibet altogether. The basic idea of Shambhala vision as that of a sane society developed out of that culture, and we are trying to emulate that vision. That particular system broke down into the Taoist tradition [in China] and the Bön tradition of Tibet, the Islamic tradition of the Middle East, and whatever tradition Russia might have. It has broken into various factions. . . . Shambhala is a Central Asian culture, which is neither Aryan nor Mongolian. It is a unified tradition, one which we have long forgotten altogether. (Selected Writings)

In this lecture, he also talks about the Shambhala tradition connecting with “the culture of the American Indians and the Eskimos, or with the Aztec and South American traditions” and says that in general “this earth—our earth, this earth, the planet earth—has very big blotches of good warriorship happening, and we are trying to bring those principles together, including the European Christian tradition of warriorship.” He looked for ways to connect the Shambhala path with other great spiritual traditions of warriorship throughout the world, while respecting the integrity of each tradition and not seeking to merge them all into an eclectic vision.

The image of the warrior was one he felt would be helpful and appropriate for this age. He himself had been through a tumultuous upheaval in Tibet, seeing his culture and many of the things he held most dear in life irreparably damaged or destroyed. Even before coming to America, he was painfully aware of materialism and the corruption of the times.
The Sadhana of Mahamudra,
a text he “discovered”
¹
in Bhutan in 1968, says:

Living, as I do, in the dark age,

I am calling upon you, because I am trapped

In this prison, without refuge or protector.

The age of the three poisons has dawned

And the three lords of materialism have seized power.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The dharma is used for personal gain

And the river of materialism has burst its banks.

The materialistic outlook dominates everywhere

And the mind is intoxicated with worldly concerns.
²

At the same time, while he had experienced many negative aspects of materialism in the modern age, his presentation of the Shambhala teachings was anything but pessimistic. The image of the warrior is brave and heroic. Shambhala vision is an affirmation and a celebration of human life, suggesting that in the midst of great chaos and confusion, the warrior is one who can appreciate and promote the goodness of human existence. Not being afraid of who he or she is, the warrior is fearless and confident and utterly devoid of aggression.

When Trungpa Rinpoche was leaving Tibet in 1959, he was writing a text about Shambhala, which he left buried somewhere along the way. In India, when doing a divination practice for which he was well known, it’s reported that he often saw visions of the Kingdom of Shambhala in a mirror into which he gazed.
³
In England, he also was working on a Tibetan manuscript about Shambhala. But it was only after six years in America that he began to present these teachings formally. By that point, he had gathered around him a community of more than a thousand dedicated students, most of whom had been practicing meditation for some years and were now also beginning their study and practice of vajrayana Buddhism. The Naropa Institute was flourishing. It might have been a time to take a break and relax. For Rinpoche, it was a time to expand.

In the fall of 1976, Chögyam Trungpa was presenting advanced teachings to senior Buddhist practitioners at the Vajradhatu Seminary, which was held over a three-month period in the King’s Gate Hotel in Land O’Lakes, Wisconsin. His residence at the time was a tiny two-bedroom trailer overlooking a frozen lake about ten minutes from the hotel. He and one attendant were living there. Just at the point where Rinpoche was making the transition in his talks from hinayana and mahayana material to the presentation of vajrayana Buddhism, a Shambhala terma text appeared in his mind, the first to come to him in North America. It appeared first as the stroke of Ashe in his mind, which is a primordial symbol representing the heart of warriorship. Then, a few days later,
The Golden Sun of the Great East
, the first terma text itself, arose.
⁴

Within days after receiving the first terma, Rinpoche moved into quarters in the hotel, a suite of rooms from which he conducted most of the remainder of the Seminary. He would occasionally return to his little trailer, but the expanded environment at the hotel became his main base of operations. He gave ten talks during the final section of Seminary, a number of which wove the Shambhala teachings into his presentations of vajrayana. It might seem coincidental that he moved his residence at this time, but in fact it was related to how he transformed his personal life at the same time as he began to present the Shambhala teachings. Earlier in the year, he had experimented with expanding his personal household to include a large number of servers, attendants, and other staff—all of whom were his students. His quarters in the hotel at Seminary also allowed him to have an expanded household, with many people involved in the most intimate aspects of his daily life. The situation allowed him to hold court, so to speak. In December, he returned to Boulder and moved into a house recently purchased for him, which was known as the Kalapa Court—Kalapa being the name of the capital of Shambhala. At the Court, he had many people around him all of the time. This left him with virtually no privacy, which was certainly not a “luxury” in the normal sense of the word. However, the constant flux of people coming and going seemed fine with him. From the moment he woke up in the morning until he went to sleep at night, his house was filled with people who were all there, essentially, not so much to serve him as to be with him. If you looked at what it was like for him, everything and yet nothing had really changed. He continued to conduct his life with great simplicity and tremendous attention to detail. He remained both as gentle and as energetic as he had always been, humorous and relaxed amid the tremendous bustling chaos that he invited into his home. His wife, Diana Mukpo, commented on this aspect of their life together:

It was sometimes difficult being married to Rinpoche, because we never had any personal space at all. I mean none. I could wake up in the middle of the night, and he’d be talking to someone in the bedroom. This went on for years and years. For me, an ordinary mortal, it was very difficult sometimes. I would walk down to my kitchen in the morning, and there would be five people there. However, he never got irritated. He was never irritated; he always welcomed the situation so much, and that wasn’t forced. That was the amazing thing about him: he was so much the embodiment of the teachings and the embodiment of the discipline. He felt so much pleasure and so much appreciation in working with other people. He embodied meditation in action. His particular internal discipline of being willing to work with other people all the time—when he was eating, sleeping, waking—that discipline was always there for him.
⁵

Volume Seven of
The Collected Works
includes discussion of how Rinpoche organized large groups of people to work with him on various artistic enterprises and installations. Earlier volumes document how he was the center of a “scene” almost from the moment he set foot in America. With the establishment of his residence as the Kalapa Court, the “group work” simply became more intimate, focused, and non-stop. It allowed him to work with many more students in greater proximity and intimacy. Rinpoche had often said that enlightenment begins with the kitchen sink. At the Kalapa Court, taking care of the sink, the stove, the silverware, and the living room rug were all literally subjects of discussion. For some of his closest students, the Court became their home as well. In the summer of 1976, when Rinpoche was first implementing court-style living, he invited his private secretary, David Rome, to live in the house. When Chögyam Trungpa moved into the Kalapa Court in December, it was not only the home for him and his family, but he invited the Vajra Regent (his dharma heir) and his family to live there as well. The Court provided a way in which students became part of creating a society and a culture every day, very directly, in all the details of life.

As part of his own upbringing in Tibet, Rinpoche had been taught that personally serving one’s teacher is one of the best ways to facilitate attainment of a real understanding of the dharma. Being close to the teacher in this way is an excellent opportunity to have one’s ego-oriented schemes punctured. As well, the example that the teacher sets is magnified by close everyday contact with him or her. Historically, the Trungpa lineage was based on this model of a close connection between teacher and student. In fact,
trungpa
means one who serves or is close to the teacher. So by implementing a way to incorporate service to the teacher as part of one’s meditation in action, Rinpoche actually was adapting a traditional model—with a slightly different twist.

At the Court, Chögyam Trungpa didn’t simply use servants to serve him meals or clean his house. He worked along with everyone to create an uplifted environment into which everyone was invited. One might be serving on one night and coming back the next night as a guest. In a talk to some of those who served at the Court, Trungpa Rinpoche said: