Beyond Meeting or Parting
(En route to Buddha)
Want to indulge in uncommon fun on a Sunday after dinner?
Settle into a comfy reading nook with tales of a yogini’s contemplative journey; her solitary retreats and sometimes freakish, entertaining and (always) sobering escapades through South Asia, Europe and North America. Discover the magic of the quotidian!
N. L. Drolma through the looking-glass, Sangyum Kamala’s residence, Naranthan, Nepal, March 2009
Trekking route, Solukhumbu, Nepal, Dec. 1996 (Photo by N. L. Drolma)
This blog offers excerpts from the memoir that a wily rinpoche tricked me into writing.
In 1996, I cast off the moorings of friends, art career and home in Manhattan for teachings and training with a legendary, reclusive Dzogchen master in the mountains of Nepal. Definitely a spiritual trajectory out of the box for a native New Yorker. I became a social misfit—heh-heh! And now I’m on the web forfeiting a long-kept low profile.
Drumroll, please. Strike those Tibetan cymbals! Blowwwww the conch.
Join me for landslides and an overnight in a taxi on a Bhutanese mountain pass. Face seduction in India. Retreat for three months in the south of France. Tango with death in hospital. Trek to a monastery in the foothills of Mt. Everest. Go sleepless in Hong Kong. Relocate to a mountain village in Nepal… and hole up in a summer cottage on Cape Cod for a winter of solitary retreat.
I write of inspirational encounters with revered Buddhist masters, their mind-bending teachings and unorthodox ways. (Several masters were among the last generation of yogis and scholars to undergo rigorous training in Tibet.) I also speak frankly about obstacles that arose for me in solitary retreat as well as on the road, and how such adversity in actuality can accelerate one’s spiritual maturity. May these anecdotes of my footloose travels not only smash misconceptions about spiritual practice (and renunciation), but illustrate the challenge, grace—and wild humor—of abiding by the dharma in daily life. Never give up, no matter what!
Om Ah Hung,
Khachod Dechen Ling, NYC
Wisdom Magic
This is the memoir of a slipshod yogini. May it make you smile and book a flight to Nepal.
What the Buddha taught 2,500 years ago is “live” in Nepal, a crazy-quilted land of prayer, terraced rice fields, lazy hazy afternoons and cows that know they are sacred and sit in the middle of the road directing traffic. The country’s northern border shares Mt. Everest with Tibet and offers a sojourner jaw-dropping opportunity to experience just how dreamlike life is.
On a Clear Day You Can See the Pyrénées
“I can’t count mantra.” I confess this out loud in the shrine tent amid the gathering of three hundred of Sogyal Rinpoche’s senior and most devoted students from around the world. I didn’t know how to use a mala—Buddhist beads for counting sacred syllables, a method to pacify discursive thoughts. Nor did I particularly want to use the mala…
Fait Accompli
How does a ‘nice Jewish girl,’ raised in the sheltered suburbs of New York, convey to a Tibetan Buddhist master her culturally conditioned phobic reaction to the very sound of the word ‘nun,’ and its implied austerity? I can’t say why ‘monk’ doesn’t sound as forbidding, lackluster, or as humorless as nun, but I do know my discomfort with the word was an expression of fear that had no real basis.
Could Maroon Be the New Black?
My 7:30 a.m. flight to Phaplu was on hold—its time for departure anyone’s guess—and all afternoon flights at Tribuvan were cancelled. My useless thoughts scurried across the deserted lobby and crashed into the stacked metal rows of empty baggage carts. I sat on my bags and prayed for a clerk to appear behind the Nepal Airlines check-in desk. Nepal is the ideal country for teaching Westerners patience.