September 2000
In This Issue
HEART ADVICE -from Dzongsar Khyentse Rinpoche
MONTH
OF THE GUINEA PIG -
Longchen Nyingthik Ngöndro Retreat - Vajradhara Gonpa, April-May
2000
SEA
TO SKY RETREAT CENTRE IN THE NEW MILLENNIUM
JAMYANG
KHYENTSE WANGPO AND THE RIS-MED MOVEMENT
WHITE LOTUS SPONSORSHIP PROGRAMME
NOTICES
- Dalai Lama to Visit Australia in 2001
- Namkhai Nyingpo Rinpoche
- E-Dharma.net
MONTH
OF THE GUINEA PIG -
Longchen Nyingthik Ngöndro Retreat
Vajradhara Gonpa, April-May 2000
About 50 of us clambered up the mountain to stay for the entire retreat; over the Easter weekend our numbers swelled to 120. Most were from Sydney and northern New South Wales, but others came from all over Australia, as well as the U.S, Taiwan, New Zealand and even Spain. The opportunity to spend a whole month practising under Rinpoche's guidance was a privilege, a significant blessing.
On the first day Rinpoche admitted that this was his first month-long ngöndro retreat as well as ours. "Australians make good guinea pigs," he told us. "If it works here, I'll do the same thing in other countries." Unwisely perhaps, he enlisted our help in deciding a schedule: his suggestion that 350 prostrations were possible before breakfast led to Rinpoche's first guinea pig rebellion!
Starting at 6.30 a.m, we practised for about eight hours each day. Rinpoche did not conduct a formal teaching programme but answered questions each day after lunch, and his impromptu talks after evening practice became, as is his style, lively teachings in themselves.
Rinpoche was committed to a three-day teaching in San Francisco, and for several days left to continue his promotion of The Cup as it premiered around Australia. But for most of the month he sat with us, his own practice empowering ours. For days on end the gonpa was filled with the wonderful near-silence of hushed mantras and the quiet click of malas turning. Smoky plumes of Rinpoche's sacred incense ("What do you call it - frankenstein? It's from Bhutan! It's smuggled!") enveloped us with pungent and potent blessings. At dusk the gonpa mouse peeked out from behind the golden Buddha and the barking frog started calling from the dam.
The retreat was to be held under "strict guidelines" of morning silence, but good old- fashioned Aussie slackness gained an early grip, and even maintaining quiet in the gonpa was beyond the self-discipline most of us could muster. Instead, after Easter we embarked on 12 days of complete silence. "Mindful silence is very profitable," Rinpoche advised. "It carries the merit of many mantras."
Silence coincided with bad weather - good weather for quiet contemplation, even if the hubbub of scribbled conversations still filled the dining room. The gonpa was lost in cloud and squalls of rain arrived in splatters, drummed on the roof and moved on. The camping paddock regained its old, muddy familiarity, several tents sagged under the weight of their responsibilities, dormitory beds gained new, wet friends. Rinpoche leant back on his throne and announced that this was the way he liked question sessions to be. We were able to laugh, but not to speak.
Towards the end of the month, reminded by the tall, white monk from Sri Lanka of the masters' advice to practise "as if death was at our backs like a butcher with a knife", we somehow organised a roster for an all-night practice. "I think you're mad," Rinpoche was heard to say, "but you Australians must do what you must do." The kookaburras - usually first up with a round of cackling laughter at exactly 5.47 a.m. - were confused that morning, drowned out by a somewhat delirious chanting from the feet of the golden Buddha.
The retreat ended with a customary Gesar of Ling fire puja, with Rinpoche blessing an array of fine Australian foodstuffs which were duly consigned to the smoking blaze - and although several delinquent Jaffas were seen escaping into the grass, a gutsy Coonawarra Cabernet bled across the concrete hearth in a significant gesture of self-sacrifice for the benefit of all beings of the six realms.
On the final evening Rinpoche declared the Month of the Guinea Pig a success, but warned us that the real work was to come. "Practice is like sharpening a knife. It's how you use the knife in daily life that counts." The following morning we farewelled him to teachings in France. Burly men had tears in their eyes, womenfolk clutched each other, comfort chocolate was passed around. With mindfulness sharpened and blessed, we descended off the mountain to "real life" awaiting below.
Alan
Close
