The Collected Works of Chogyam Trungpa: Volume One (17 page)

The tour took about three months and I longed to get back to Surmang so as to be able to start on the visit to my guru. I realized that had I been older and able to give spiritual guidance to my people, it would have been necessary to go on such a tour; but being only twelve I could not feel it was important to have all this grandeur; and though the tour still followed the traditional pattern, it seemed to have lost much of its inner meaning. These feelings may partly have been due to my youth.

On my return I stopped for a few days at Namgyal Tse to say goodbye. I had reason to be grateful to the monks at Dütsi Tel who had made all arrangements for my journey to Sechen. Two cows were ready to provide us with milk, and twenty mules which would be loaded with the baggage. Several of the novices, especially those interested in advanced studies, wanted to come to study at the same time, but only my tutor and two monks were allowed to come with me. My secretary, Chandzö Kargyen, was so anxious for my well-being that he chose to come to see for himself how I settled in. Some of the monks were not very pleased that my lessons in religious ritual had had to be curtailed in favor of intensive studies in meditation and metaphysics; but for me, the joy and excitement of receiving instruction from my own guru was overwhelming. I had wanted to take the simple path of my predecessor and do the journey on foot, but my tutor and secretary thought I was too young for this and must be looked after; so we went on horseback and slept in tents at night. It took ten days to reach Sechen; the whole journey was most enjoyable, for the scenery was superb and each village seemed different, the local inhabitants wore the distinctive clothing and followed the customs of their particular locality.

We arrived at Jamgön Kongtrül’s retreat house on my thirteenth birthday. My monks had expected a large and well-appointed building, but it was very simple and unpretentious. His old mother lived with him and also one Khenpo Gangshar, together with his own mother; the two women did the cooking and looked after the cows. Jamgön Kongtrül’s old tutor acted as secretary and attendant, and Khenpo Gangshar’s young nephew was there to run messages,
etc.
Everyone spent much of his time in meditation.

Khenpo Gangshar had been brought up from his earliest childhood by Jamgön Kongtrül who had considered him as his spiritual son and had educated him with the greatest care, for his father had been killed and his mother on becoming a nun had asked Jamgön Kongtrül to look after the boy. Gangshar had always been extremely studious and would apply himself day and night with hardly a break. He had memorized hundreds of texts and received the degree of master of studies (khenpo) at a very early age.

Since we arrived on the day of the full moon, my guru was fasting and all was in silence; when one of my monks went forward no one spoke to him, but a note was sent asking us to come in. My guru showed great joy on seeing me and even before I had taken off my outer robe he came out of the door to present a scarf, beckoning me to enter without words. I told him about our journey, and when I mentioned the two cows he looked pleased, for he had wanted me to make a long stay, and since my monastery had thought fit to send the animals with me, this showed that they also expected me to do the same. I asked my guru to explain to the secretary Chandzö Kargyen that a prolonged stay was advisable; I said that if this suggestion was made on the very first day it would carry more weight. The following day, when he could talk, my guru spoke to the secretary and Apho Karma; they both replied, “The incarnation of your guru is in your hands; hitherto we have done our best to educate him, but now this task is yours.” Chandzö Kargyen then returned to Surmang.

Jamgön Kongtrül Rinpoche decided that I should spent my first month studying academic subjects as well as meditation under Khenpo Gangshar. We were to start with the
Arya-ratna-traya-anusmriti Sutra
(recollection of the Buddha, his teaching and his disciples’). Learning this by heart meant very hard work from morning till midnight. He himself was prepared to give the initiation (wangkur) on the
Treasury of the Mine of Precious Teachings (Rinchen Terdzö
), by the great Jamgön Kongtrül who made this vast collection of doctrines at a time when some of these teachings were nearly forgotten; he had searched for them throughout Tibet. The Rinchen Terdzö is of the utmost importance, for it contains all the most profound doctrines that he himself had received from the tenth Trungpa Tulku.

Jamgön Kongtrül began his own preparations for the rite at four in the morning and we pupils had to be in the hall from five until eight in the evening. The wangkur started with morning devotions, and special offerings were made on the tenth and the twenty-fifth day of the month. During the six months of the rite there were only three breaks when our guru was unwell. Hundreds of monks and some abbots of neighboring monasteries attended the course which was restricted to those who had already done the introductory practice; they camped around in tents. This was a very moving gathering, for all were aware that they belonged to the family of the dharma. During the whole of the rites Apho Karma kept a very strict eye on me, for I was placed with several other tulkus (incarnate lamas) who, being young, were apt to be a little frivolous, and though I was actually the youngest I was expected to behave; however, a kindly Nepalese monk who had been in India and had seen modern mechanical inventions, noticing my youth, gave me my first toy, a little engine which he had made himself; a string wound round its front wheel set it in motion in the same way as a top.

The Rinchen Terdzö finished with the enthronement wangkur at which a disciple is chosen and given special authority to carry on his guru’s teaching. Jamgön Kongtrül Rinpoche conferred on me this honor; I was enthroned, and he put his own robes on me, handing me his ritual bell and
dorje
(thunderbolt scepter) with many other symbolic objects, including his books. I felt very shy, as there were many lamas there of much greater learning than I who, I thought, would be far more suitable; however, my tutor and the monks were pleased to decide otherwise on that day.

When the gathering was over my guru advised me to join the seminary under Khenpo Gangshar, saying that he himself would give me meditation instruction every fortnight.

There was accommodation for about one hundred students in the seminary which stood on the banks of the river some four miles distant from Jamgön Kongtrül’s residence; each student had his own cubicle where he slept and studied; these were in long rows connected by a covered passage and their windows looked out on a stretch of grass between the lines. Stoves were placed in the corridor beside each cubicle for us to do our own cooking, this being done for us only on festival days. The kitchen staff supplied us with tea and hot water and distributed the required fuel; if this was insufficient we would collect wood for ourselves. Breakfast was finished before five, when a gong was rung for us to begin our homework, and at eight a second bell was sounded for us to attend the khenpo’s lecture. Before giving this he would answer any questions from the students who might want to have the previous day’s work clarified. After this our names were shaken up in a bowl, and the one whose name was drawn had to reread the scriptures of the day before and to put forward his own commentary. Then the khenpo began the lesson of the day with careful explanations. This was followed by group tuition, and my tutor, one of the
kyorpöns
(tutors) who had been especially chosen for this office would decide if I should join the group or go to my cubicle to receive private tuition from him. I started with Maitreya’s works on transcendental wisdom (
prajnaparamita
) which is one of the main themes of the mahayana, the school of the greater vehicle (Dr. Conze has made some excellent English translations of these under the name
Perfection of Wisdom
); the basic trends of the lesser vehicle I had already studied in my own monastery.

The teaching staff at the seminary consisted of Khenpo Gangshar Rinpoche as the principal with five kyorpöns as tutors under him: the term
kyorpön
is equivalent to a
geshe
in the Geluk and Sakya schools, something like the English doctor of divinity. There were also several junior kyorpöns. The discipline and behavior of the students were looked after by a senior lama called the
gekö
.

Sechen was founded toward the end of the sixteenth century and was one of the leading monasteries of the Mindröling tradition of the Nyingma, the first monastic order to be established in Tibet. It was famed for the profoundness of the doctrines taught there and also for its very strict discipline. When I was there, there were eight incarnate lamas besides the two abbots, with some three hundred bhikshus and two hundred novices in the monastery. The buildings more or less filled the valley, with the main assembly hall in the center. The walls of the hall were festooned with open-work embroideries and had frescoes depicting historical events; numerous shrine rooms opened out from it, and one of them contained an extensive library; in another room there were very ancient images of the eight “spiritual sons” (bodhisattvas) of the Buddha. There was a more modern image of Manjushri, the patron of wisdom, which was heavily gilt and decorated with precious stones; besides these there was a figure of Rigdzin Gyurme Dorje, one of the founders of the Nyingma school, made out of consecrated herbs and clay; it was a very rare and ancient piece of work. The whole place had an atmosphere of remarkable vitality.

My first impression was the peace and calm of the place, for the monks lived under very strict discipline though all were very happy. The drums and other musical instruments were particularly soft toned; the monks were not allowed to raise their voices and had to sit very still while meditating. Those who carried out the rites had to be accurate in every detail and all the chanting had to be done from memory, as no books were allowed. The ritual was slightly different from that practiced in other schools, but I found that it had great dignity in its perfection. There were two abbots at Sechen; Tulku Rabjam Rinpoche was a great personality both spiritually and because of his wide vision in regard to practical affairs; I owe much to his teaching. He had a striking appearance because of his very large mustache, not common among our people. The second abbot, Tulku Gyaltsap Rinpoche, who was the incarnation of one of the tenth Trungpa Tulku’s gurus, was an outstandingly saintly man and a gifted writer; he was small of stature and radiated friendliness to all who came near him; there was a deep understanding between us and his residence was like a second home to me.

By now I was fourteen and completely happy and satisfied with the work; I looked forward to the summer vacation when we would have more leisure and I would have more opportunities to be with my guru. At the beginning of the vacation I was staying at one of the hermitages where I could walk in the woods and practice meditation in serene solitude. Although it is natural for boys to play and want to climb trees, under my guru’s instruction I had to control such impulses; but here everything was such as to satisfy me with the path I had chosen.

On the last day, while I was walking, meditating, and enjoying the beauty of nature, a thunderstorm burst overhead. This sudden transition from peace to conflict symbolized what lay ahead of me, for running back to the hermitage I found that a monk had arrived from my own monastery to ask if it would be possible for me to return to Surmang as one of the senior lamas, the third next to the regent abbot, had died. Apho Karma made the most of this fact, as the responsibility of being left in sole charge of me was getting too much for him and this made him very nervous; he considered that I was overworking and thought that I might have a breakdown, so he wanted an excuse to take me away. He could not have explained all this in a letter, and he now decided without consulting Jamgön Kongtrül Rinpoche that I should return to Surmang. When the matter was put before my guru he was rather upset, but since my tutor was so insistent he found it impossible to argue with him and finally agreed that I should return to my monastery. To me he said “You have received many teachings; you can now teach and practice them yourself, but later on you must come back and complete your training.” A farewell party was arranged, attended by the two abbots of Sechen and some of the senior lamas.

The following day when I went to say goodbye to my guru he told me that, though I must now leave, he had had a dream the night before and had seen a half-moon rising in the sky; everyone was saying, “This is a full moon”: “This means,” he said, “that you are the moon, but not yet really full, for your studies are not complete.” He gave me further advice on meditation and said sadly that he must not leave his room to say goodbye because his place was still within. I made a promise to myself that I would come back, and broken-hearted left that wonderful place.

The flower of compassion
.

Death, Duties, and a Vision