text:
Computer lab introduction
"On the other side of the screen, it all looks so easy." (TRON, 1982)
- 1 WiFi Login
- 2 Remote computer access software
- 3 Plain-text editors
- 5 Directory structure
- 6 Command line interface
- 7 Intro-to-Unix tutorial
- 8 Advanced topics (unfinished)
- 9 More about text editors
- 10 Online resources to learn UNIX
WiFi Login
To log on to the MBL wireless choose the MBL-REGISTER from the wireless list. Your username is your initials followed by the 5 digit number on the side of your identification card. Your password is the same. E.g. if you name is Joe Bloggs and the your card has the number 12345 on the side then your login details are:
username: jb12345
password: jb12345
Some people have been having trouble, if it isn't working find or email Emily Jane firstname.lastname@example.com
Remote computer access software
We will use Secure Shell (SSH) and sFTP to connect to the servers. The servers are powerful computers where we can run the programs much faster than would be possible on your laptop. In order to access these you need to log in to your assigned server
Please download the following programs as needed unless it is installed by default
- Mac Os X
- Cyberduck (file transfer via sFTP)
- SCP and SSH installed by default
- Linux
- SCP and SSH installed by default
Plain-text editors
Programs that you might be used to using for manipulating text (e.g., Microsoft Word) do all sorts of complicated things to your files, including inserting lots of weird codes for specific formatting, special software-specific characters, page margin instructions, etc. The software that we are going to use frequently are controlled by text files (that's where their instructions are stored), and they are easily confused--they need a simple file with just their instructions, and none of that other stuff. So we need a plain-text editor to make and manipulate these files.
Note: different operating systems code line-break or end-of-line characters in different ways, and this can cause problems (Unix: LF '\n', Mac: CR '\r', Windows: CR+LF '\r\n').
With GUI
- Linux: gedit (GNOME default), Kate/KWrite (KDE default)
- Mac: TextEdit (default), TextWrangler
- Windows: Notepad (default), Notepad++
Without GUI
SSH stands for "Secure Shell." These are programs that provide a Unix shell so that one can enter commands and log onto other computers (i.e., those on the server where we will be doing our analyses).
SSH on Windows
Use PuTTY.
SSH on Linux and Mac Os X
First, open a terminal window:
- Linux: Konsole (KDE), gnome-terminal (GNOME)
- Mac: Terminal (in /Applications/Utilities)
In the following command replace username and servername with the user and server name found on the back of your name tag:
ssh username@servername
For example if my username is cmeehan and my server name is class-04 I type:
ssh cmeehan@class-04
It will then ask for my password which is on the back of your card under your username
Changing your password
The first thing to do once you have successfully logged on to a server is to change your password. This is done by typing:
This will prompt you to enter a new password so do so and press the enter key. Next you re-enter the new password and again press enter. It may then ask you for your LDAP password and you should type in your original password given on the back of your card.
Once you have done this every time you ssh in to the server you will use the new password created.
Directory structure
The file systems used by Linux, Mac OS X, and Windows are organized in a hierarchical, multifurcating tree structure. That might sound confusing, but you're used to working with this organization scheme through the Mac Finder or the Windows Explorer--folders (directories) are stored inside other folders, and they in yet other folders. The path through this directory tree can be used to specify the absolute (starting at the root) or relative (to some other directory) location of any given file.
- NOTE: Regardless of the operating system on your laptop, when you log on to the cluster, you will be on the class machines, and they're all running linux.
The root folder of the directory tree is symbolized by a forward slash "/". Path names through the directory tree are formed by separating directory names with the "/" character. For example in the path /usr/local, local is a subdirectory of usr, which in turn is a subdirectory of the root folder (/). Further, usr is called the parent directory of local (whose parent is /). Users with an account on the computer have a so called home directory for their own files and folders, and where the operating system keeps user-specific settings. The operating system uses other locations in the directory tree to store system-wide files, like some executables, system-wide settings, etc.
In Windows, each disk partition has its own, separate root (without a common root for all partitions). However, each drive still has a most elemental directory, e.g. denoted C:\ for the partition named C. Absolute paths are therefore based on the partition root. Folder names in paths are separated by the backslash character "\".
Current working directory
The current working directory (or working directory) may be defined as the directory we are working in at the moment. Path names that do not start with / are interpreted as relative to the current working directory.
Command line interface
When you open up your SSH client (a Terminal window on a Mac, or PuTTY for Windows), you'll see a prompt that will look vaguely like: Macintosh-6:user$ There are lots of variations on the theme, but the prompt usually has a little bit of information on where you currently are on the computer (in this case, in a folder called "user"), and then some sort of symbol, and then a space where you can enter commands. Commands are only executed after you press enter. If you are logged onto a class server, the prompt will be something like [username@classServerName ~]$
Basic Syntax
Unix commands follow the general format of:
command -options target.
Not all commands need options (sometimes called flags, and generally preceded by a single or double hyphen ("-" or "--")) or targets, but others require them.
- For example:
- cd homedirectory uses the command "cd" (change directory) and the target "homedirectory" to move from the current directory into the subdirectory called "homedirectory"
- ls -l homedirectory uses the command "ls" (list), the option "-l" for long-list, and the target "homedirectory" to list the contents of homedirectory in the "long list" format, which provides more thorough descriptions than does the regular "ls".
Notes on syntax for directory structure
- Two dots (..) indicates the parent directory of the present working directory. So, for example, "cd .. will move you back one directory.
- One dot (.) indicates the present working directory. So, for example, "cd ." will keep you where you are. There are times where the single dot can be more useful than this...
- The tilde (~) refers to your home directory. On the class machines your home directory is /class/yourusername. You'll also have a unique home directory on your laptop, etc. The tilde is very helpful if you get lost while using the terminal -- just type "cd ~" and you'll be back in your homedirectory.
- A forward slash (/) by itself or at the start of a path refers to the root of the filing system -- the folder that contains all other folders.
- NOTE: do not make changes on the class server in the root folder or any shared folders. All your work is to be done in your home directory or a subdirectory of this.
Some suggestions concerning file and folder names
- Avoid spaces in script and filenames (use underscores, dots, or hyphens, use "CamelBack" notation). Spaces are used in command line editing to separate options etc so if there is a space in a filename it will mess up the correct running of programs.
- Do not use "weird" characters (#@!*&^, etc., especially ?, *, \, or /)
Don't Panic
When it all goes south, "control-C" is your friend. It breaks whatever processes are running, and gives you your prompt back. Or, failing that, just close the Terminal and start again.
Intro-to-Unix tutorial
Start by entering
This will print your working directory (the directory you are currently in). You should be in /class/your_login
Next type
This list the contents of your working directory (which is likely empty).
You can also look at the contents of any other directory by supplying the path. For instance,
ls ..
will list the contents of the parent directory that your current directory is in, in this case the class directory.
mkdir is the command to make a directory. Type
mkdir myfolder
to make a new folder called myfolder. Type ls and then enter. It should be listed. We can also use the ls command with flags at this point. Typing
ls -l
will list the contents of the current directory in "long" format which includes information about permissions and file size.
cd is the command to change directories. We can move into the new folder you made by typing
cd myfolder
You can use pwd to confirm you've moved and are now in a new working directory. You can move back to your home directory by typing
cd ..
And can move to the root class directory by typing
cd /
Confirm you are in the class directory with pwd. You can move from here to the myfolder directory in your home directory by typing
cd class/cmeehan/myfolder
Calling a program
First, let's make a file using the command-line editor "nano." If you use a pre-existing file as nano's target, it will open it for editing, and if you use a non-existent file name, nano will create it for you (a new blank file). Let's do the latter:
nano firstprogram.sh
This command both opens nano, and creates a file called "firstprogram.sh". In the nano window, enter the following two lines:
#!/bin/bash echo "hello mbl"
This file is called a shell script. It is a file that contains lists of unix commands like echo, ls, etc.
To move around your nano window, use the arrow keys, not your mouse. Control+x will exit, and nano will ask you if you want to save changes. Say yes.
Shell scripts almost always have the suffix ".sh". They are run by typing "sh" before the filename.
We can run this program by typing
sh firstprogram.sh
This should print 'hello mbl' to the screen.
Copying, renaming, and moving files
The copy command (cp) is used to copy files to new places. The command basic syntax is cp source_file destination_file
First create a file called 'tmp1.txt' in nano and put whatever you want inside of it.
We will now make a copy of tmp1.txt called tmp2.txt by typing:
cp tmp1.txt tmp2.txt
We can also cp a file from the shared directory using absolute and relative paths.
cp /class/shared/testfile.txt .
will copy a file named "testfile.txt" to your current directory but will not change its name. Use ls to verify.
The move command (mv) can be used to move or rename files. The command syntax is mv source destination
mv testfile.txt example.txt
has the effect of renaming testfile.txt to example.txt. Use ls to check. We can move this file up one directory by using mv as well.
mv example.txt ..
will move the example.txt file to the parent directory of your current directory. Use ls .. to check.
- NOTE: Do not move files that are not in your home directory or a subdirectory of this. All files in shared or root folders are to be copied, never moved.
Loading pre-installed programs
Many of the programs that you will need for the course are already installed on the class servers. These need to be specifically loaded in for them to work.
For example on the command line type
You should get an error message saying: -bash: blastn: command not found
Now type
module load bioware
This should load all the preinstalled programs so that you can access them. Now type blastn again and you should see:
BLAST query/options error: Either a BLAST database or subject sequence(s) must be specified
Showing that blastn is now available for use.
If needed, programs can all be unloaded by typing module unload bioware
Useful links
The following table contains a list of commands that will allow us to navigate through the directory structure. The entries are linked to their Wikipedia pages, which contain very useful examples.
|Syntax (Linux/Mac)
|print working directory
|list directory contents
|doskey /history
|display command history
|change directory
|cd directory_name
|make directory
|mkdir directory_name
|copy files
|cp original_filename copied_filename
|move files (the same as rename files)
|mv original_filename moved_filename
|remove file(s)
|rm filename
|clear the screen
|quit command line
- UNIX/Linux command line cheat-sheet: http://fosswire.com/post/2007/08/unixlinux-command-cheat-sheet/
- MS-DOS full command list: MS-DOS commands
Command line editing
The following features of most command line interpreters often come in handy:
- Up and down arrow keys: cycle through previously issued commands
- Tab completion
- 'CTRL+a' moves cursor to beginning of the line
- 'CTRL+e' moves cursor to end of the line
Advanced topics (unfinished)
Adding a directory to the path
sed, grep, and awk
- sed (UNIX stream editor)
Regular expressions
- Regular expressions cheat-sheet: http://www.addedbytes.com/cheat-sheets/regular-expressions-cheat-sheet/
More about text editors
Looking inside text files
There are different commands that can be used to look inside files from within the command line interface. Two of these are cat in Linux/Mac, type in MS-DOS, and less in Linux/Mac, more in MS-DOS. The command more is also available in Linux/Mac, and in fact more is less, but less has more features than more.
- cat: cat stands for concatenate. This command is useful for peeking at short files; using cat to view a long file results in the top lines scrolling off before one can even read them. The simplest use of cat is with
cat filename
- less: This command is useful to read long text files because a page of text (i.e., a command line window filled from top to bottom) is displayed one at a time. With less is easy to move forward and backward by lines, pages and even between two or more files. less is a program in itself, so when it is invoked, a prompt appears at the bottom of the page awaiting for a new less command. The prompt in less is a colon (:). The simplest use of less is with
less filename
The following table contains a list of useful less commands
|display next page
|display next line
|n f
|move forward n lines
|move backward one page
|n b
|move backward n lines
|/ word
|search forward for word
|? word
|search backward for word


text:
Learn to interpret the images your radar is displaying with hands-on radar exercises in our Chart Room. This class includes an introduction to true and relative motion, range, bearing, and what that means to you and your vessel. You will also learn how to mark targets and track other vessels. This class has a four-person minimum.
Pilothouse Simulator Class
Introduction to Radar Navigation (2.5 hrs)
Date: November 10
Time: 9:30am-12:00pm
Offered on Saturdays in the Spring and Fall.
Maritime Education Programs
We offer classes from traditional navigation with paper charts through cutting-edge Pilothouse Simulation courses--our goal is to make you a better, safer and more confident mariner. Class sizes are small and are designed to be hands-on, so that you are learning while doing--whether it's Radar or Dead Reckoning. If you have a group or club that would like to schedule a private class, please contact email@example.com to make arrangements.

subset: commoncrawl


text:
Having a Say at Work
SHARE officially became the union for support staff at UMMS in 1997, when employees voted overwhelmingly "yes" for union representation. The primary reason employees had for organizing SHARE was to have a voice in issues that affect them. We even had a slogan: "Don't make decisions about us, without us."
In what ways does having a union give SHARE members a voice?
In contract negotiations, we have a voice in our pay, benefits and work policies
In union meetings and individual conversations, we have a voice in the direction and priorities of the union
Through the problem-solving process, we have a voice when individual problems/conflicts come up at work
In union elections, we have a voice in who our representatives will be
Through committees and ad-hoc negotiations, we have a voice in issues that face groups of SHARE members
What happens in contract negotiations?
Sometime before our current contract expires in June 2018, SHARE and UMMS will start negotiating about what will be in the next contract. The SHARE team usually consists of the SHARE Executive Board and SHARE staff. The UMMS team usually consists of Human Resources representatives and department managers. They discuss pay (like what the annual raises will be), benefits (like time off) and policies (like inclement weather).
Before and during negotiations, the SHARE team spends a lot of time talking with SHARE members: discussing what our priorities for negotiations should be; giving updates about how the discussions are progressing; and strategizing about what kind of arguments in the room, and activism outside the room, will be most effective in getting to an agreement.
What happens in union meetings?
In SHARE information meetings we talk about what is going on in the union for SHARE members and in SHARE's discussions with the Medical School. In drop-in meetings, anyone can stop by to talk about whatever is on their mind. Both kinds of meetings are usually held over lunchtime. They are informal, and you are encouraged to bring your lunch and questions. Union leaders check in with members to share information and to address any concerns.
What is the problem-solving process?
The problem-solving process is a joint union-management process for dealing with problems that come up at work between an employee and his/her supervisor.
What happens in union elections?
Every fall, SHARE members elect leaders: Executive Board members and local area Representatives. SHARE leaders keep the union strong by staying in touch with SHARE members, helping people with questions or issues, and coordinating union activities.
What kinds of things are discussed in committees?
We have committees on Work-Learning, and Bilingual Pay, both coming out of contract negotiations. SHARE members also participate in UMMS committees on a range of topics sponsored by the Diversity and Inclusion Office.
How can I get involved?
You can talk to someone who is active with SHARE, or call the SHARE office at 508-929-4020. We would love to have your help!


text:
Janine Warner's popular books and videos about the Internet have won her an international following and earned her speaking and consulting engagements around the world. Janine is the creator of DigitalFamily.com, a full-service interactive design and training agency that offers web and mobile design, content strategy, and internet marketing services.
Janine is the author of 25 books about the Internet, including Web Sites For Dummies, Mobile Web Design For Dummies, and every edition of Dreamweaver For Dummies. She's also created more than 50 hours of training videos about web design, CSS, and social media. Learn more about Janine at JCWarner.com.


text:
Yet another feature from our WhatsApp wishlist has made its way to the world's largest instant messaging app.
Click Here: WhatsApp
But then this doesn't turn WhatsApp into a full-feature file sharing service. While the icon suggests that users can share documents, in our tests it appeared to be limited to PDF files only and didn't even display other document formats - such as .doc, .docx or .txt - among the list of files.
Recently WhatsApp upped the size of groups to 256 members. In January this year, it did away with its $1 token annual subscription fee.


text:
Saturday's garage sale was a huge success. Amanda made a killing (in garage sale terms), I made more than I expected and the husbands were made happy by the fact that anything left went to the St. Paul Kirchenfest flea market. Cash and clean basements ... it's enough to make any marriage a happy marriage.
There were, of course, some hiccups along the way, most of which came at the hands of our valued customers. Needless to say, garage sales bring out some of the more interesting individuals in the world, such as the lady who knocked on Amanda's door Friday evening asking for a sneak peek, only to be perturbed that everything wasn't priced. While most of the shoppers were nice and several complimented Amanda on having such a nice garage sale (seriously!), there were of course a few characters. Here are a few of my favorite encounters and individuals from the day:
*Please do not offer $1 for six nicely framed prints reasonably priced at $3 and up and act as if you are doing us a favor. Do I look like I need this money for crack? Be serious, people.
*Thanks to the woman who pulled $1 out of her bra to pay Amanda. I am still sorry I missed that.
*Dear lady who didn't take her meds: Thank you for spending $50. You stressed us out, but at least you didn't try to write a personal check.
*Shaking clearly priced items at me and asking, "How much?!? How much?!?" is not any way to make friends. Oh, and following it up with a surprised "So expensive!" is not any way to get me to negotiate with you. Especially when you do this with every item that catches your eye.
*When Amanda says she's keeping the hanger, she's keeping the hanger. You got a brand-new children's outfit with tags on on it for $2. Be happy with that.
Like I said, the garage sale was a success. But then again, a garage sale with ribbon-adorned baskets can't be anything but a success.
Click here for a few -- and I mean a few -- shots from the day.


text: Éric Araujo <merwok at netwok.org> added the comment: +# <> isn't actually a valid comparison operator in Python. It's here for the +# sake of a __future__ import described in PEP 401 If we wanted to be exact, the operator isn't here for a __future__ import but for a feature enabled by a __future__ import. But I don't feel strongly about this at all :) ---------- _______________________________________ Python tracker <report at bugs.python.org> <http://bugs.python.org/issue13239> _______________________________________


text:
Rs. 4,260.00
A Collector's Delight !
The name " Kalighat Pata"is applied to a class of paintings and drawings on paper produced by a group of artists called 'patuas' in the neighbourhood of the famous Kali Temple at Kalighat in Calcutta in the 19th and early 20th centuries.
Colonial rule had destroyed the equilibrium of Bengal village life. Around 1809, wandering scroll painters from the districts of Murshidabad, Birbhum, Hoogly etc settled down near the newly rebuilt Kalighat temple to paint their depictions of gods and goddesses as well as scenes from contemporary life and times, often with a dose of wry humour. The Patuas reflected in their paintings the incoherence of urban life, both of the English people and of the Calcutta babus, the style deriving inspiration from folk dolls and statuettes. Kalighat "pats" soon developed into an industry, turning out a great number of pictures to meet the popular demand of pilgrims and other visitors to the city. Their themes included popular Hindu deities, incarnations and saints, epic and Puranic anecdotes, historical events, incidents of daily life, social skits and different species of Indian fauna. Since no other idol could be placed in the Kali temple, the other Gods and Goddesses were depicted through paintings, and rich landowners and wealthy pilgrims flocked to buy these artworks. There were just 4 or 5 painters, working in limited themes and colours, but the paintings themselves were of a quality and style that soon became world famous. Socio-cultural satirical aspects of the Babu culture crept in, in the 1850's, and the movement only lost momentum with the advent of printed artwork. Many painters moved to idol making and an art form that had impressed and influenced artists like Pablo Picasso, and the Chinese scroll painters, almost came to a standstill.
In recent years, young Bhaskar Chitrakar, inspired by his grandfather, has actively revived the art form by continuously painting in the old style and also re-inventing the patachitra with contemporary themes and ideas. He is the last active Kalighat patua still living and working in the Kalighat area. In his endeavours, he has been supported for the past eight years by the Tejas Gallery, who have seen him grow in concept and improve in technique, now combining the old Kalighat style with miniature painting in all it's details. He continues to use traditional powder pigments, grinding them himself, mixing gum-arabic and chemicals to ensure longevity, and using the best paper and finest brushes to execute his charming works. He does not work fast anymore, but spends days contemplating, designing and finally executing each piece, especially his "Babu" series where a dose of wry humour is injected into each work.
Bhaskar's patachitras are truly a collector's delight!!
Each of these Limited Edition Signed Prints are 1 of only 5 made. Price includes Tax


text:
Miriam Margolyes
'I loathe Christmas,' says Miriam Margolyes. 'Loathe it. I pretend it's not happening. I ignore it completely. Not interested.'
Oh dear. For an interview to promote a film called The Man Who Invented Christmas, this isn't quite going to script. But then, anyone who expects Miriam Margolyes to stay obediently on-message clearly doesn't know Miriam Margolyes.
Fortunately, the actress has no such reservations when it comes to the festive visionary in question, one Charles Dickens. A lifelong fan and Dickens scholar, she's toured the world with her long-running one-woman show, Dickens' Women, co-written a book of the same name and presented a 10-part BBC documentary about the author's time in America. Though even here, she's not afraid to call her hero out for being a deeply flawed individual – and she doesn't think they'd exactly have been bosom buddies.
'He didn't like fat women, and I'm a fat woman,' she says. 'He didn't like speaky women either, and I'm a speaky woman. So on two counts he'd have disliked me intensely. Also I'm very nosy, and he really didn't like that. He was keen to keep his life as private as possible. He burned all the letters he had in a great bonfire shortly before he died. He just wanted people not to know what was going on. And I want to know what's going on.'
There is, it has to be said, something a touch Dickensian about Margolyes herself – maybe he'd have written her into one of his novels?
'In some ways he already had,' she says. 'There are two characters in Bleak House, Mrs Pardiggle and Mrs Jellyby, who I'm very like. I'm a lesbian, and he did write a lesbian character, Miss Wade, but I'm nothing like her. She's very slim and serious. I'm not at all.'
By her own admission, Margolyes' role as housekeeper Mrs Fisk in The Man Who Invented Christmas is 'absolutely minute – it hardly exists'. But she was eager to do it because 'as soon as I see something's about Charles Dickens, I want to be involved'.
Set in 1843, Bharat Nalluri's whimsical fantasy finds Dickens – played as a dashing literary rock star by Downton's Dan Stevens – racing to finish A Christmas Carol, aided and abetted by frequent visitations from his own creations, most notably Christopher Plummer's Ebenezer Scrooge.
'It was wonderful to be a part of, and I think people will enjoy it,' says Margolyes. 'I was very impressed with Dan Stevens, I thought he was adorable, as was Christopher Plummer. I only met him briefly, but like everyone else in the cast, I fell in love with him. It's absolutely thrilling to be even a minnow in those waters. It's just gorgeous.'
While she might be allergic to Christmas herself (and, being Jewish, has no reason to pretend otherwise), Margolyes thinks the message of Dickens' festive classic still resonates, which is why she'll be donating her time to give readings at four carol services this month. 'For me, Christmas is about charity,' she says.
These days, the actress divides her time between homes in England, Tuscany and New South Wales (her partner, Heather Sutherland, is Australian, and Margolyes has held dual British-Australian citizenship since 2013). But she likes to keep busy.
'I'm 76, and like Andrew Marvel, at my back I always hear Time's winged chariot hurrying near,' she reflects. 'As you get older you get nearer to death. That is the fact of the matter. You don't know when it's coming, so you might as well get on with life, and do as much as you can. That's my attitude.
'I've got all kinds of things going on,' she adds. 'Arthritis, osteoporosis, too much cholesterol, I'm overweight… But I'm still talented and enthusiastic and enjoying life. I think that's the lesson of getting older: that you do want to go on, and you want to make it meaningful.'
Margolyes is adamant that she wishes to be known as an actress, as opposed to the more modish actor. 'Last time I checked I was a woman, and that's what we call female actors,' she insists. 'I see no reason why that should be a subject of discussion. Actress is what I put on my passport. I'd feel very peculiar if it said actor on it.'
A generation of upcoming performers might disagree. 'They can do what they like,' she shrugs. 'But I don't pay any attention to that.'
Born in Oxford during the war, the only child of a property developer and a physician, Margolyes began acting in the Cambridge Footlights while reading English at Newnham College. She never went to drama school ('I have never trained at all for anything,' she says firmly. 'I was just good at it'), and initially found success as a voice artist, including recording the soft-porn audio Sexy Sonia: Leaves from my Schoolgirl Notebook, and causing confusion for a generation of adolescents as the seductive Cadbury's Caramel bunny. 'Vocally, I've never been typecast or had any limitations,' she says. 'I even played Cleopatra.'
On-screen, she was everything from prostitute 'Elephant Ethel' in the 1977 film Stand Up, Virgin Soldiers to Rowan Atkinson's terrifying puritanical aunt in Blackadder, but admits she never felt entirely comfortable as a young actress.
'Now I'm older, it's more acceptable not to be slim and beautiful', she says. 'I was always told I would come into my own, whatever that might mean, when I was older. And in the sense I've got more work, that's true. I now fit more readily into the older character actress mould. But I'm sorry I had to wait so long. With regret,' she adds, in a typically mischievous reference to the Harvey Weinstein saga, 'I've never been asked to go to bed with anybody to get a part.'
Margolyes is fabulously indiscreet – at one point, she tells Weekend a frankly unprintable anecdote about a Hollywood actor that sends her PR team into panicked frenzy – and clearly relishes her reputation as a lady of misrule. 'But I don't just say things to be naughty,' she insists. 'Well, occasionally I do. But I don't find it easy to keep things to myself. If I've got an opinion, I can't help myself.'
Her support for the Palestinians, in particular, has caused upset in the Jewish community. 'It does lose me friends,' she admits. 'Jewish people do not like it, and they show they don't like it. I don't blame them at all for their opposition, they're entitled to express how they feel. But I'm completely sure I'm right. I don't have any doubt about it at all. And I think in time that Jewish people – who are as compassionate and warm as anybody can be – will come to see that the actions of the government in Israel is not helping. Just the opposite, it's causing antisemitism to rise.'
David Walliams has cited Margolyes being rude to him as the inspiration for the grotesque title character of his book Awful Auntie. 'I know David, I like him, and I think it's quite flattering to be the muse for such an awful character,' she says. 'I don't mind that she's awful – the point is that she's vivid and remarkable, and that is what I'd like to be.'
She's even upset the Queen. 'I don't think I upset her,' she protests. 'But I was rude, and she was rude back. I didn't mean to be rude, but I inadvertently was. I was stupid, there was no doubt about that, I was an absolute tw*t. When she said "What do you do?", instead of saying I'm an actress or I read stories or something, I said, "I'm the best reader of stories in the whole world". And of course she thought, "What an idiot". And she was quite right. But I thought what followed [Margolyes kept gabbling, until Her Majesty told her to "be quiet"] was a little bit… harsh. But anyway, I've got over it.'
She's said in the past that doesn't like children – is that true? 'Well, I think the thing is, I don't like noise,' she says. 'For me, a noisy child is exactly the same as a pneumatic drill in the street. I would never hurt a child. I just don't want them round me.'
Is that not a bit awkward for the woman who played Professor Sprout, Hogwarts' eccentric herbology teacher in the Harry Potter films? 'No, because the children that I meet can speak,' she says. 'They can actually talk, rather than scream and yell. That's what I like. I like to talk to children. It's a matter of pleasure to me that children recognise me all over the world. That makes me happy. I just don't like being near noisy children. If you're in an aeroplane with some noisy brat… It just infuriates me.'
In recent years, Margolyes has won a new legion of fans thanks to her uproariously no-filter appearances on The Graham Norton Show, where she has cheerfully confessed to not knowing who her fellow guests are, and told Will.i.am she was 'fascinated' to meet him because 'I don't know many black people'.
'I mean, you can't pretend, can you?' she tells Weekend. 'My whole business as an actress is to be truthful. People have to believe in you. That's the only thing that matters. I don't see the point of going on a chat show and talking a lot of lies. I've seen Will.i.am since, and he's absolutely lovely. But I'd never heard of the Black Eyed Peas. I don't know anything about popular culture – about pop music, or those films with supermen in them.'
Despite knocking on the door of fully-fledged National Treasure status, Margolyes claims she's actually a little disappointed with the way things have turned out.
'I'm surprised I haven't been more successful,' she sighs. 'I've been in the papers, but I don't consider I've been really successful as an actress, which is what I wanted to be. I would like to be at the National Theatre, I'd like to have a television series… I would like to have been better known for better work, I suppose.
'But I'm not grumpy about it. You could say I'm still hoping. You know like they say about virgins – they're still wondering? Well I'm still wondering.'
Published in Waitrose Weekend, November 30, 2017
(c) Waitrose Weekend


text:
on time machines, weaving words and loosening our belt so that our minds can expand…
My last blog post touched a lot of nerves- in a good way, from what I can tell, and it also seemed to have displeased others who came away from it thinking that it was written to complain about laziness, 'spiritual materialism' and the existence of a spiritual marketplace which often become more of a self-help, soft-core spiritual path. While I understand the reaction, I don't agree with such facile readings of the post- not that its difficile in the first place.
Whatever the case may be, whether these posts, and this blog, are worth the ether that allow them a fragile existence of any kind or not, leads me to a few deeper problems that have been something of a point of concern as well as curiosity for me lately, that is: language and time.
I would first like to avoid the immediate association with these terms any cosmic relationship with philosophy and loosey-goosey bedroom-eyed mysticism, while simultaneously acknowledging that language and time are obviously thematically treated in great depth in both the study of philosophy and mysticism. It may be that we are best served (for the purposes of this post) in allowing our analytical minds, the mind of blended comparisons and of discernment, to step aside as we examine for ourselves within the context of the personal meditation experience, how and what language and time mean, and how they appear. Let's put aside the study philosophy and try to approach this from what unfolds naturally on the meditation cushion, or, as we walk, or dream, as we paint and dance through this life of ours- for meditation experiences are always different from philosophical investigations.
We define ourselves through the use of language. Outwardly we describe who we are physically, our characteristics and so forth, and then we fill in all of the details, our personalities, likes and dislikes, and all the rest. We further dabble in collaborative fiction through supporting the personal narratives of our friends and loved ones, and in offering counter-narrative of those we dislike. Soon, what may have begun as a relatively blank page (a debatable point indeed) has become filled with a testimony of who we would like be, who we envision ourselves as, and the way that we interpret the world around us. This language is a tapestry of meaning, one in which we both consciously and unconsciously weave together a living history, along with the plotted trajectories of the future events that have yet to be lived. In and of themselves these products of our individual relationship with language are amazing works of art that capture how we conceive, what we can allow to be, and what we must keep at bay. They are our hells and our anchors; perhaps they prevent us from flying off into a manic subconscious world; or perhaps they confine us to knowable modalities of being that provide us with the tools for the experience of life. Whichever the case may be, and I suspect that it is most likely a combination of the two (and many others) at differing points in time, language -in this context- acts, more often than not, like a prison; it is like a thief, and even more, language is like an unreliable friend whom we continue to trust even though she will continue to disappoint. For somehow we cannot describe away the pain of loss, the experience of death, the terrible bouts with illness, and the fact that one day we will be forced to say goodbye to all that we hold dear- no matter how much we may try.
The images we create with our internal literary drives have a hieroglyphic quality in the true sense of the word hieroglyphic, that is: a highly symbolic form of writing which is difficult to interpret/assign meaning. In the beginning was the word. From that word, an entire world was created, a veritable cosmos- our interwoven personal narratives develop with increasing complexity and nuance creating a web, a net, or systemic literary story-line in which we capture every detail. As I sit here, writing both this blog post as well as my experience of today, the soft beautiful light coming through the windows between the treas and fluttering prayer flags is captured as is the sweet smell of a yet uneaten pineapple offered in a recent Mahakala tsok that simultaneously soothes and excites.
Everything we do, all we experience, tends to be added to this net of meaning that is cast upon the phenomenal world.
There are times when we are able to put down our pens, or turn off whatever device we use to compose these narratives of distinctive being- one of the most common device in such work is our discursive mind. The mind of spacial relationships, of color schemes, the mind of philosophy and dualistic comparisons. Perhaps this is also the sociology mind, the mind of architecture, the mind of economics, and the mind of urban planning. That part of us which organizes, the desire to play with the economics of mind; the way we become hypnotized by the production, consumption, and transfer of phenomena.
When we can put this down- although we're not really putting anything down- then what we were formerly engaging with becomes less of an object and more of an experience. There is almost a sense of relief in this, a wonderful supporting ease and perhaps the experience of a type of contentment.
In his very condensed version of the Ninth Karmapa's The Ocean of Meaning, entitled Opening the Door to Certainty, the late Kyabje Bokar Rinpoche touched upon the enhancement practices of Mahamudra meditation. These are described as 'enhancement through eliminating five false ideas'. The first of the five false ideas is that of objects. Of eliminating the false ideas about objects Bokar Rinpoche writes:
Without grasping something real in the notion of samsara that must be abandoned and nirvana that must be actualized, but placing ourselves in the infinite one-taste of primordial awareness [of knowing] the non-duality of all phenomena gathered by pairs such as virtue and non-virtue, we eliminate false ideas about objects.
This is a wonderfully powerful instruction, that while presented as an enhancement practice in the context of the Mahamudra system, is worthy of examining, especially in light of how easily we craft global narratives of everything within and without. I wonder how we can 'place ourselves in the infinite one-taste of primordial awareness' or settle ourselves in a position of quiet knowing in which we can allow ourselves to dissolve the need for narrative, comparisons, and allow the direct of experience of the world around us (and within us) to arise; a dancing array of inherently perfect appearance. Easier said than done? I'm not so sure about that- if we can playfully try to fold this into our everyday activities, I suspect that bit by bit we can massage the habits of stale knowing. If we can play around with the view we're really practicing something profound.
The second of the five false ideas is that of time. Of eliminating the false ideas about time, Bokar Rinpoche continues:
Although there is no fundamental truth about the reality of the three times, we think within a mode obscured by the division into three times. Consequently, realizing equanimity which does not establish a distinction of the three times, we eliminate the false ideas about time.
This instruction is especially relevant in helping to loosen the grasping of the compelling reality of our narration as we constantly pin things down (including ourselves) to various points in time. Our past informs us in the present and helps determine the future; or so we tend to think. Ideas of time having particular characteristics is a lovely subtle subject- Buddhism is rife with them: the number of aeons, life times, or years that it will take before we fully awaken is just one example. Assuming that the past was a particular way, the notion of the golden days of long ago in relation to these degenerate times, is another poignant example. The very notion of systematic evolution (individual spiritual evolution) is a wonderful blended assumption rooted in the false ideas of objects and time. How many others do we hold on to?
What other unexamined aspects of our faith tradition do we just assume out of the habits of appearance and time? What would it be like if we crafted our own notions based upon our experiences?
Wangchuk Dorje reminds us: "The division of the three times (past, present, and future) are simply the imputations of ignorant fools." More specifically, he warns us that included within this is the relationship that we may feel that we have with the past and future. He further continues, "yogins and yoginis who have manifested this [realization] are able to bless a great aeon into an instant and an instant into a great aeon… …if they were separate entities this would not be possible." Yet it is possible, and, it is up to us to ease into allowing this possibility. This gets back to having set ideas about who we are, what we are capable of, and all of the other stories we have woven.
What happens when we wrestle with the solidity of time? Or loosen our belts so that time can slip away…
When will your liberation occur? Forget the texts, and all of the things you have heard, when will it be possible to truly ease into the mind's essential nature? After ngondro? After you have mastered your yidam practice? After a three year retreat? After ordination? After you die, in the bardo? After you die seven times? One hundred thousand times? In the future? What about right now? Did you already do it in the past, but got all distracted?
When we can see words as playful birds, and time reflected in the way that clouds appear and disappear in the sky, and the the solidity of our identities as the smoke of incense floating through the the rays of a setting sun, then maybe we can experience mind a little more clearly. Not just the mind's stillness, but by feeling out, as if expanding awareness to meet the bounds of space, without saying, doing, thinking, making notations, and without being Buddhist. In trying to do this over and over, the artifice of relative reality can be seen, a necessary strange place that allows us to communicate, to help others, to support ourselves in the process of familiarizing ourselves with the mind- but not ourselves, not our identities. Yet when we tighten our belts, we become men and women, Buddhists, with mass, height, characteristics, distinct identities that feel, want and need. We have a cannon to follow and refer to, we experiment less and assume that it will all work out in the future, a bunch of now moments later, but the very now we live in is never seen as the free open experience of whatever arises without characteristics.
Wangchuk Dorje reminds us that we cannot realize this through "merely listening and reflecting, examining and analyzing, being very knowledgeable, having a sharp intellect, being skilled in exposition, being an excellent teacher or logician, and the like." He goes on to quote the Gandavyuhasutra:
The teachings of the perfect Buddha are not realized by simply hearing them. For example, someone may be helplessly carried away by a river but still die of thirst. Not to meditate on the dharma is like that.
Someone may stand at the cross roads and wish everyone prosperity, but they won't receive any of it themselves. Not to meditate on the dharma is like that.
We can go around with ideas of this and that, with loads of empowerments, secret instructions and a plethora of practices to choose from but the real wisdom comes from practice, from trial and error. In fact, just one simple practice is more than enough- by sticking to it and blending it with our waking and sleeping moments great wonders are possible. We are very well served by examining how and why we hold these truths about ourselves, our paths, and time to be self-evident. In attempting to let the constancy of our personal narrative fall away like an unneeded belt, lets take these words and use them to unzip themselves so that our view is that of the experience of mind, fresh, free, naked and not of the three times.
On equivalencies and a new dharma center…
Lately I find myself reflecting on equivalence. Yet before I share my thoughts I would like to dedicate this blog post to Lizette, a hospice resident that I had visited who died yesterday. May her experience of the bardo be one of restful ease!
As a chaplain the notion of the possibility of equivalence helps to bridge the differences between myself and others- between what might be expressed, or needed, by someone other than myself. Ascertaining equivalence, a necessary act of juggling, forces us to examine our orthodoxies. It opens the door to the barn where we keep all of our sacred cows, our assumptions, and very often, all of the ways that we lazily forego really examining how we are with others, especially in relation to our larger belief systems, and all of the other spheres that we occupy. When I can find the points of connection that I share with people with whom one would assume there is no connection, I am usually left with an understanding of just how similar I am to others. Equivalence helps to reduce the promotion associated with self-elevation might make me say, "As a Buddhist, I am different from you in that I believe….", or, "As a Vajrayana Buddhist I feel that my path is better because…."
The word equivalence has its root in the early 15th century middle French word equivalent, which is a conjunction of the prefix equi meaning equal, and valent (as in valence) and valiant, which at that time period referred to strength, bond, and a "combined power of an element". I am reminded of the importance of valence electrons in chemistry and physics- specifically how the balance of electrical charges between atoms necessitate a sharing of electrons thus creating bonds between atoms. From these bonds everything around us arises; indeed, through the play of interdependence everything that we know can come into being.
I find this metaphor helpful as it involves stepping out of the traditional norms of Buddhist language. Of course, one might ask, "what language isn't Buddhist?" In this question is a profound point. If our approach to Buddhist practice, whatever form that may take, or for example my chaplaincy informed by my practice of Buddhism, cannot interpenetrate other forms of language, other modalities of thought, or other creative models, it lacks the ability to maintain equivalency. In this manner it ends up lacking the ability to be itself while remaining fluid; it remains separated and isolated, at odds with whatever other it may encounter. In this way I know that I run the risk of falling into a discursive self vs. other perspective when I feel a lack of openness, fluidity, and ability to be at ease with whatever arises.
It can be easy to feel self-conscious within, and around, our belief system which if one is Buddhist, often undermines our very ability to be Buddhist. Indeed sometimes we try to be "Buddhist" as a way to distinguish oneself from others. This kind of separation is a terrible violence- an awful form of self-inflation and spiritual self-destruction that seems to miss the larger point.
And yet, if we explore the possibility that no language can be found that exists outside of the framework of Buddhism in its pure natural manner of expressing itself then it is easy to appreciate true natural arising equivalencies. We are no longer "Buddhist", we just are, which I suspect was what Shakyamuni came to value within his spiritual quest.
Over the past two weeks I have had the fortune to visit two women who were actively dying at two different hospices in the New York City area. Two very different women, going through different experiences of similar processes: dying. Both of these women had strong spiritual paths- unique paths of self-taught wisdom borne through the constancy of the repeated trials and tribulations that only a full life can bring. In their own ways, as self-taught "outsiders" they were Christ-like, and Buddhistic, and spoke of pure a basic expansive being without necessarily referencing any particular Buddhist vocabulary. Indeed it appeared that the slow fading of the flickering flame of their life allowed them to rest in a peaceful alert awareness that was a real joy to experience. Here I was, a chaplain, asked to come visit these two women who in that moment expressed a depth of view that I could do nothing but rejoice in and admire. I left feeling very confident in their process- they were touching a nearly inexpressible beauty. The visits with both women were punctuated by long silences with much eye contact- with simply being together, with a basic human connection.
Language, with its structural intricacies, its variegated forms, and kaleidoscopic ability to transform, often acts as a buttress in relation to our habitual referential reactions. It allows for, and instills, comparison -creating an endless system of distinctions. A literary color wheel, language runs the risk of pinning everything around us down; leaving us with a sense of knowing. And yet I wonder, where and when, does knowing intersect with being- with the quiet awareness from just being? What is the nature of their relationship within us?
My experience with Lizette, one of the two hospice patients described above, was that whenever I tried to use language and vocabulary to capture what she told me that she was experiencing a clumsy formalism ensued. The beauty and power of her experience of being was made overly solid, overly distinct and "other" by trying to define it. The only thing that kept this feeling alive was to join with it; to sit with her; and to not "know" it, but to be it.
What is the difference between discerned knowledge and knowing borne from resting within the moment? Where, or perhaps more importantly, when, do our assumptions, our knowledge, or our better sense and logical mind of discernment (a deep and satisfying place of self-importance) get in the way of simple being? How does language and knowing try to contain the simple being that is needed to allow us to rest in all of the equivalencies around us?
I am currently working on establishing a Dharma center here in Brooklyn called New York Tsurphu Goshir Dharma Center. This center is the only center of His Eminence the 12th Goshir Gyaltsab Rinpoche, Regent of the Kamtsang Kagyu Lineage. Just yesterday we received our 501 c 3 status as a church! It is a great honor and joy to co-Found and Co-Direct a Dharma center headed by a mahasiddha, and amidst all of the uncertainty and fears of failure, or that this will be a complete disaster, I keep coming back to memories of ngondro and the trials that Milarepa, our not so distant father, underwent.
Rob Preece, in his book Preparing for Tantra: Creating the Psychological Ground for Practice, offers a compelling argument for equivalency as it arises between aspects of the hardship and challenge created by undergoing ngondro and other hardships that may share a contextual similarity. Preece describes how all of the work and hard physical labor that he put into helping to build a center that Lama Yeshe was establishing was a prime ground for focusing the mind around dharma practice, planting aspirational seeds that would doubtlessly blossom into mature trees that provide support, shelter and benefit for others. Indeed, I know that as I challenged my body by carrying hundreds of pounds of building materials, the back pain and discomfort of refinishing the floors in 100 degree heat lead me to feel closer to Milarepa than I have felt in a long time. The practice of demolishing old structures, hanging sheetrock and cutting my hands while rewiring the shrine room allowed me to appreciate Preece's point that ngondro was a creation meant to challenge, to purify, and to create gravity around dharma practice. My seemingly small daily endeavors, in reality, connect me to my spiritual lineage which allows me to feel close to Naropa, Marpa and Milarepa.
Ngondro is one thing- a practice that I value and feel is too often treated as just a preliminary that is to be rushed through, but how is chaplaincy different? Can it be any different? When we really look, can there even ever be a difference?
Milarepa never did ngondro, nor did Naropa- they had the benefit of having their teachers skillfully put them in difficult circumstances. At first glance it could be thought that it's just hardship and difficulty that is implicit in these kinds of challenges; but when you look a little closer, it looks more like what is happening in through these experiences is that the view is being clarified.
What is being clarified, or purified? How is it really purified? These questions are both rhetorical and actual and beg to be asked. Blindly following through a ngondro pecha may be better than killing insects, but perhaps only in that it plants seeds that one day one may actually practice ngondro. And when we actually practice ngondro, where is there anything that exists outside of that practice? Refuge is everywhere. The experience of Vajrasattva's non-dual purity of unmodulated mind is everywhere. The accumulation of merit arises with every breath. The lama is everywhere. Yet when we don't "practice" ngondro what happens to refuge, the essence of purity, the accumulation of merit, and the blessings of the lama and the lineage?
I feel that there is a lot of wisdom in being able to rest into the awareness that accompanies being. It acts as a reset button of sorts that allows us the ability to see things more clearly, to appreciate the richness of whatever arises without creating conflict, and to meet others where they are without needing to change them. In this way, and with this perspective as a motivational factor, the world around us has infinite potential as a ground for practice. New York Tsurphu Goshir Dharma Center becomes as meaningful as Bodh Gaya in India, Tsari in Tibet, and yet is no different from sitting on the subway of being surrounded by the overwhelming bustle of Times Square, as everywhere can be the center of the mandala of the experience of reality as it is. It's impossible for everywhere and everything to no longer function as the ground for practice.
This is the wish-fulfilling jewel quality that can be associated with resting in being with all of the equivalencies that surround us. This is an expression of the multi-valent interconnected relationships that imbue our experience of reality with all of the qualities associated with pure appearance as described in dzogchen, mahamudra, the pure view or sacred outlook associated with yidam practice, and quite possibly the experience of grace in Christianity, or wadhat al-wujud, the unity-of-being as described by Sufi master Ibn 'al Arabi.
So whether you are helping to renovate a place of dhrama practice, or simply liking it on Facebook, or enduring trials similar to those of Naropa, Marpa and Milarepa, or laying in a hospice bed in Queens, New York, who is to draw distinction between the type of, or depth of experience that we undergo?
Can we quiet our mind of endless comparisons? Or allow for the mind of analytic distinctions to settle itself?
In doing so, perhaps the simplicity of being that arises reveals a constant soft rain of blessings and opportunities for authentic clear being. May all beings taste this ambrosial nectar expressed by the blissful knowing glance of all of the mahasiddhas of all traditions in all world systems. Gewo!
On resting with Tilopa…
Recently I have found myself returning to some of the amazingly pithy meditation instructions attributed to Sri Tilopa (988-1069), the well-known Indian Buddhist mahasiddha who was the forefather of the Kagyu lineage. His short, often poetic instructions, are something that help me in my personal meditation practice, as a ground for keeping myself feeling dynamic and internally connected as a chaplain, and in explaining to others the vajrayana perspective regarding what arises within the approach to death. An example of such an instruction is as follows:
If you sit, sit in the middle of the sky.
If you sleep, sleep on the point of a spear.
If you look, look upon the center of the sun.
I Tilopa, who saw the ultimate, am the one who is free of all effort.
The expansive clarity of this type of instruction, for me at least, is very resonant- it offers a way to feel my experience of mind blend into the wideness of space while also experiencing a sense of focus; a relaxed single-pointed experience of breath, sound, transparency of thoughts, and edgelessness. When this experience arises I feel very connected with Tilopa, as well as the other Indian mahasiddhas Naropa and Maitrepa. Sometimes however, I feel that I need a more graded approach to this experience of mind. When this occurs, I tend to lean on Jey Gampopa for support.
More specifically, I rely upon Gey Gampopa's Precious Garland of the Supreme Path, and even more specifically I come back to the 5th chapter of this wonderful text: The ten things that you should not abandon. I had the wonderful fortune of receiving instruction on this text by the Venerable Khenpo Lodro Donyo, abbot of Bokar Ngedhon Chokhor Ling, in Bodh Gaya in the fall of 1998. This was during one of the many Mahamudra seminars that the late Kyabje Bokar Rinpoche held- truly magical times when we could all sit together under the bodhi tree to recite the 3rd Karmapa's Mahamudra Aspiration Prayer, spend time in meditation- simultaneously touching our original nature- as well as physically touching the ground that supported the practice of all of the generations of Buddhists who had come before us in Bodh Gaya back all the way to Shakyamuni himself.
It was in that environment, and within that emotional frame of mind, that I came to learn of the ten things that one should not abandon. These ten things are: compassion, appearances, thought, mental afflictions, desirable objects, sickness (suffering and pain), enemies or those who obstruct our practice, methodical step-by-step progress, dharma practices involving physical movement, and the intention to benefit others. Gampopa's list is very sensible, it is noble in the sense that it seems to be endorsed by Santideva himself; it is imbued with a heartfelt concern for the welfare of others as well as a methodical presentation of the training to see that appearances- be they attractive or not- are just mere appearance. The misapprehension of appearance, or appearance as taken as an independent entity separate from ourselves, is the very cause of our experience of suffering. As with all great dharma texts, it is heartening to see how just one small portion, in this case the 5th chapter of a 28 chapter text can offer the entire path to realizing one's essential nature.
In looking back at the notebook that I have from the session when Khenpo Rinpoche taught this chapter, I can return to my exuberance not only for this chapter as a whole, but for Gampopa's explanation of how one should approach the non-abandonment of mental afflictions. As a chaplain, when I am in the hospital, I very rarely meet people who desire to not abandon their experience of suffering: their fear, their psychic pain, their feelings of abandonment, of futility, of anger, or attachment to family- let alone attachment to ideas of how their life should or shouldn't unfold. This experience isn't unique to the hospital either- I and most of the people who I know spend a great deal of time fighting with these emotions. Perhaps this is why they are called mental afflictions.
Anger, attachment, pride, jealousy, ignorance. When we really sit quietly with these words they are not just words- they are worlds; worlds of suffering, worlds of feeling like we are right and others are wrong, that we don't receive the credit or accolades that we deserve, that if only I had this, or was a that, then things would be the way that they should be. On and on and on…
Gampopa advises us to try three modalities with regard to facing and not abandoning our mental afflictions. We can avoid them- that is, avoid whatever causal conditions that might make them arise. We can transform them- or try to transform what these emotions unlock within us. Or finally, we can rest in them as they arise. Whichever modality we tend towards, there are two things to remain mindful of; how we habitually fall into one of these three modalities, and the degree to which we can honestly assess our relationship to that which we struggle with. Each of these ways of facing and not abandoning our mental afflictions can be techniques of liberation or techniques of seductive self-enslavement.
The process of avoidance is a very grounded, stable and well-meaning way of not abandoning our mental afflictions. It honors the way they arise- it honors their root- without forcing us to become affected. This way of approaching difficulties, painful habits, and stubborn aspects of our identities allows us some distance from the "heat" of the moment that comes with embodying our reaction to our mental afflictions. One could even go so far as to say that this modality is somewhat analytical in approach, it is disciplined and measured. The shadow aspect of avoidance is not acknowledging the mental afflictions that bring us pain and suffering. Not much good happens from simply ignoring things, or not letting aspects of ourselves have the light and air that they need to grow. Right now, the shadow of this modality comes to mind in the form of the image of a neglectful parent who doesn't want to see who their children really are.
Transformation is a common methodology that one finds in the various levels of tantras. It involves playing with the way that we perceive our mental afflictions. This type of restated relationship allows us to meet head on those feelings that would normally make us want to run away. In this way the dross becomes pure; the dirty is seen as clean; and that which torments us achieves the possibility of bringing meaning and peace. True lighthearted transformation- transformation with ease- is hard to effect. Transformation has a terrible shadow side that involves the desire to fix; or more bluntly an inability to meet things as they appear without making them into something positive. As a chaplain, I witness many people struggle with maintaining a relationship with difficulty and pain, uncertainty and loss, and sickness and death without trying to "fix it". The constancy of a "make-it-better-plan" can be exhausting and create untold suffering. It feels profoundly important to examine how this modality of maintaining a relationship with our matrix of painful emotions can relate to a desire to not allow honesty around what we are feeling and from where the roots of these emotions arise. (Here is a link to the related shadow of spiritually bypassing.)
Resting in whatever arises, the third modality presented by Gampopa, and the favorite of Khenpo Lodro Donyo while he was teaching, is an instruction that one commonly finds within the Kagyu and Nyingma traditions. It is profound- and it also very difficult to do honestly. As we saw earlier, anger, attachment, pride, jealousy and ignorance are powerful. To rest within rage for example- to feel one's pulse quicken, and heart beat heavier and louder, while one becomes physically tight and flushed, as the explosive heat of anger and impatience engulfs us- is not a particularly comfortable feeling. (For a look at some of the difficulties involved with taking on these fierce emotions, you can read a previous post on Mahakala here.) Then there is the "resting" part. This term gets thrown around very often that I wonder if it doesn't end up having a multitude of meanings nowadays. I know that I have met Buddhists of other traditions that take the term literally and assume that it is akin to taking a nap or "resting".
Resting actually refers to maintaining a focused (often described as 'single-pointed') awareness of appearance as it arises in the moment. In this way, Tilopa's instruction from the beginning of this post seems a wonderful way through which we can re-engage the term resting. One quality of resting is being at ease. In this sense when Tilopa refers to three different ways of being- siting, sleeping, and looking- he is referring to three ways that we can rest in what arises. We can do it formally, as in sitting practice. We can do it within the experience of sleep, mind appearances arise when we sleep just as when we are awake. Finally, in looking, perhaps a passive "every day" experience as well.
If you sit, sit in the middle of the sky.
Where is the middle of the sky? The true middle? Where are its edges? Where does the sky end and something else take over? As we sit and remain resting with a sense of ease can we feel the expansive qualities of our minds? Where is the edge of our mind? What does a thought look like? Does it have a source that you can identify? Where do thoughts go when they are no longer so magnetic?
If you sleep, sleep on the point of a spear.
When our thoughts feel sticky and magnetic, when it is hard to not feel drawn into them and let our inner film projector play, what happens when we remain concentrated? What does that "single-pointed" awareness feel like? When we can feel and notice our breath; when we can maintain focused awareness on the way the inner film projector plays; on how a particular thought will hold us within our inner gaze, what do we notice about our experience?
If you look, look upon the center of the sun.
When this focus can be maintained as we look out at the world as it goes by around us, where is the sense of stillness? From where does that arise? What happens to the way that you notice the way that things arise while maintaining a focused awareness upon the expansive quality of our minds? Is there ever not enough room for what arises within our field of reference?
I Tilopa, who saw the ultimate, am the one who is free of all effort.
What if removing all effort was all that you had to do? What would it be like to maintain that within your experience of life?
Instructions such as the ones that Tilopa left behind for us are rare and powerful. It has been roughly one thousand years since Tilopa passed away, and yet through these four lines it is amazing how much of a connection we can feel with him. Five generations after Tilopa, Gampopa further crystalized the importance of being someone who "is free of all effort". And while there are may pitfalls around how we may feel that we are directly engaging what arises within the moment, there is much beauty in the journey. Perhaps, slowly moving through life, through the wonderous field of appearance, we can increase our sense of ease and relax into an experience of effortlessness. What an amazing thing to aspire towards.
On the importance of certainty…
As a chaplain, one thing that I frequently come to witness in the hospital is the relative personal theological certainty that the patients I meet have established throughout the course of their lives. Naturally the range of established belief is wide and varied; it includes a variety of orthodoxies (Greek, Russian, Jewish, Muslim), as well as the views of moderately liberal faiths such as followers of the Episcopal church, reform Jews, progressive catholics, as well as passionate Pentecostals, Jehovah's Witnesses' and Baptists. There are also Wiccans, New Age folks, and a whole host of individual prophets of the new age who I come across.
Just last week one man shared with me his belief that Jesus was more akin to Obi Wan Kanobe and Yoda than anyone else seems to realize. For this man, the essence of God is much more similar to the Force than the compilers of the Bible could understand. In fact, rather than feel with his "heart", a common human metaphor for the seat of emotion, especially as the seat of love, he told me that he feels with his larynx. After all, in the beginning was the word….
The certainty that this patient expressed regarding his inner beliefs felt palpable, and lead me to wonder about certainty. I can only really speak for myself when I say that I can never really know how true or theologically sound the spiritual underpinning of any given person who I come to meet with may be. I have my own biases, my own stubbornness, and without doubt, I have plenty of blind spots. To have a full understanding, in an ultimate sense, of the beliefs of others- or in other words: to truly know how right or correct how full or effective a particular path that another person treads, for me, seems to be an impossible task. Just like trying to hold water in my cupped hand for any length of time, such definitive knowledge escapes me. In fact, I often wonder where the utility of trying to know such things may lay- it seems like trying to know if the person next to you sees the color blue in the same way that you do. Is there even a right blue? What is blue?
What is everything for that matter?
What is mind? What are thoughts? What are feelings? Are they different?
What is Buddha-nature? How do we recognize it?
What are our dreams? How are they different from waking life?
What is meditation? How is it different from hustle and bustle?
How are we suffering? What is the cessation of suffering? What does that mean for you?
How are we not shackled by discursiveness? What does that mean?
What is certainty?
This particular question seems to touch upon and lead us to something that we may be able to come to know, albeit with effort and focus. Certainty suggests a lack of doubt; a knowing born of experimentation; security from error. Ultimately, it may be that entry into the realm of certainty is an intensely personal process. Spiritually, I feel that the tent poles of certainty are planted, and firmly fastened through wrestling with instructions left behind by the traditions that we follow. Once we have come to appreciate these instructions, internalize them, digest them, and come to know with confidence what they mean, then we may fully know the secure and tender shelter that our tradition affords us. Only then do we see that the words found in our dusty books are in fact thick golden ambrosial nectar, and that the experience of life can become more of what it is: alive, fresh, and full of energy. Even as it wanes, this life of ours, subject to pains, worries, sorrows and regrets still holds the unique and ever profound richness of spontaneity and depth of meaning.
The work of distilling certainty from our experience of, and interaction with life asks us to try to see ourselves for who we really are. It asks us to understand our outer, inner and secret anatomy. It also leads us to a taxonomy of self- a clear reflective understanding of who we are- for it is only through knowing who we are and how we experience our life that we can understand how to enter into relationship with developing greater awareness of what being open and more free means. Openness and freedom, for me, tend to be something that I associate with the flexibility needed for solidifying these natural attributes, for providing ground, for being able to really see who we are.
Then there is who we are in relationship to our tradition. Tradition and lineage can take a number of forms, but in its most essence oriented function, tradition and lineage speak to how we become who we are in time and space. In this particular case it isn't about adopting a particular set of beliefs or perspectives, but more how the integration of lineage perspectives cause us to individuate within our lineage; in essence how we become more ourselves- empowered and confident, free and self-assured. It may very well be that we come to find ourselves within the natural ebb and flow of our tradition or lineage without much to really do.
How this comes to be, of course, may be impossible to fully explain- except in relation to our own journey. Such inner-transformation is very personal and unique to each individual. This fact is easily gleaned from reading the lives of the eighty-four mahasiddhas. The story of their processes of liberation often involves embracing circumstances unique to each master's life. Whether it be using a goiter as a focus for stabilizing the mind, or a fabulous jewel, trying to steal the essence of mind to ascertain its nature, or the use of conceit as a means for attaining siddhi in arising as the yidam, nothing was spared. No fear too mundane; no shadow too dark. In fact, in these stories we can easily see how structured aspects of practice lineages were transposed upon, or woven throughout, the experience of the lives of each mahasiddha. The result of such a skillful weaving, a blending, or circulation (circumabulation) of tradition within the experience of life is twofold- the experience of being becomes easily imbued with simplicity (an expression of simple appearance) and offers the possibility of complete fiery annihilation of obscurations.
Paradoxically, such seemingly simple self-styled practice requires not only a sense of openness with regard to exploring who we are, what we are, and how we function in the world- but also knowledge of our lineage, particularly certainty in its effect. The stories of the mahasiddhas are very approachable, and should be read by everyone. A few examples can be read here. These stories really capture the depth and simplicity of a well grounded and distilled practice and offer a kaleidoscopic expansion of experience that I have come to value. From the simple comes everything, the full richness of a practice lineage with all of its subtle distinctions.
The other day a friend of mine who also happens to be a chaplain and a rabbi reflected to me a growing concern, namely that religion and religiosity are increasingly something that people are distancing themselves from- and that even spirituality is something that is regarded with some suspicion. Her larger point focused around the need for a wider tool-kit for chaplains that allows for the inclusion of people for whom feelings of connectedness may not be centered around religion and spirituality. The tool-kit that she refered to invariably requires her, and anyone who wants to be able to be there with others in the exploration of their location within the axes of spirituality and religion, to know their location and the story of their journey (how they got there). If these aspects of ourselves are unexamined how can we help others? More broadly, without knowing where we are and how we function in relation to our individual traditions how can we hope to integrate them into our lives?
This point speaks well to the establishment of certainty within our spiritual practice as it invites us to wonder what we feel about religious thought. Do we consider ourselves religious, or, do we tend to think of ourselves as spiritual? Is there a difference? What about those two words hold intense reactions and why?
There is no right answer, only our own- which if it is an honest one, can hold up to a little inquiry, and also be allowed to change as we change.
I bring my friend's point up because in many cases real training (study, receiving instruction, practice, and reflection) within our individual lineages is very important for gaining certainty in the path, as well as what is possible. Within the model of tantric buddhism this process is described as the Ground, Path and Fruit.
The Ground represents the larger theory, the teachings on the way the mind works, how suffering arises, how the dharma can eliminate our experience of suffering. The Path is primarily the method of putting this dharma into practice- really blending it with our experience of life. The Fruit is the true naked experience of mind- an experience of seeing, feeling, and really knowing the Ground to be alive within our experience of being. Certainty can be, and needs to be known in all three relational models of buddhist practice, or however many stages we experience within our own particular liberation story.
Certainty in Ground. Certainty in Path. Certainty in Fruit.
I wonder where the mahasiddhas Luiypa, Saraha, Ghantapa, Tilopa,Virupa, Aryadeva or Dhokaripa would end up without their experience of certainty upon their paths and within their experiences?
In what way do we need to attend to the development of certainty within our own experience? Can we allow ourselves the room to attend to these needs without regard to how we appear to others? Can we approach certainty with honesty? From a place of deep personal concern?
Some may feel the need for increased study- a real immersion in the Ground. Some may feel a need to develop more confidence/familiarity with the Path. Others may feel a need to open themselves to the possibility that they may indeed experience the Fruit.
Jey Gampopa (1079-1153), the first monastic lineage holder of the Kagyu lineage wrote in his famous work The Precious Garland of the Supreme Path, that we should protect our practice just as we would our eyes. Similarly, I wonder if we should regard the maintenance of certainty in our practice as we would not only our eyes, but the rest of our body. The distillation of certainty is a process that is subtle and mysterious. It is not necessarily obtained from taking classes or attending lectures, nor from reading books or studying, and yet it can sometimes be gleaned from those activities as well. Sometimes we may experience it in a flash of anger or humiliation, or as a sudden joy. Nevertheless, however it arises it arises from within- it is a fruit born from an inner journey that if deep and genuine leaves us naturally settled, grounded, and in harmony with the arising of phenomena. It is a mysterious inner-organic manifestation that like the morning mist is hard to pin-down and locate. Perhaps, only when we let our defences down, when we shed our firmly held ideas about things that certainty becomes a possibility. When that happens, the distinction between who we are in relation to our lineage is more a question of us just remaining who we are, not much else remains for us to do.
On Buddhas behaving badly…
The other day I heard a story on the radio about the rise of the anti-hero in current television programing. Apparently there is a growing number of television shows for which the main character is an anti-hero; a figure whose moral equations and ethical concerns follow a personal arc that often falls outside of the norms of the larger group; sometimes walking the line between good and bad; sometimes navigating those places that we fear to go. One example of such a show takes place just after the American Civil War in the vague liminal space of the farthest frontiers of the Union Pacific Transnational Railroad- the very edge of civilization. It tells the story of a racist ex-confederate soldier and former slave owner who hunts down union soldiers (the historical good guys) for the crimes they have committed. Another example tells the story of a highschool chemistry teacher who after a diagnosis of lung cancer, decides to work with a former student, to "cook" methamphetamine, a terribly addictive and dangerous drug, to pay for his medical treatment in the short-term; and, being a realistic man, to provide financial support for his wife, teen-age son who has cerebral palsy, and his new-born daughter. He and his partner explore the dark world of methamphetamine and the shadow figures who are involved in its distribution. They are occasionally forced to kill the ruthless for being cruel, and are often driven by a clear sense of right and wrong in a world of darkness where such distinctions as right and wrong have been forgotten long ago. Sometimes that clear judgement seems to fall prey to the induced darkness that they frequently encounter. There are yet other similar television stories too, including the story of a serial killer (the anti-hero) who only kills other killers, and has a love for, and natural connection with, children.
For those who are interested, you can listen to the radio clip that I listened to here.
The presentation of these anti-heros as an archetypal "dark Hermes", a guide for lost souls, or as a guide for well-oriented souls as they transition through, or are completely lost in, a place of darkness, leads me to reflect upon pawos, palmos, and the retinue of very important wrathful buddhas. I am reminded of those who protect, and those who serve in places and at moments where we seem weak and desperate, those who as part of their unique activity can serve compassionately through, for lack of a better term, dark means.
These beings, Mahakala in all of his overwhelmingly powerful manifestations, Throma with her army of dakinis, Vajrakilaya with his phurba of non-referential space, and Yamantaka (Vajrabairava) the destroyer of Yama (the lord of death), occupy an important place within the practice of all lineages of tantric buddhism. They have also been the most controversial. From the perspective of the academic study of Buddhism in the Indian subcontinent and Himalayas, many early western scholars of Buddhism regarded tantric Buddhism as a corruption of the Buddha's original message. Tantric Buddhism, and tantric Hinduism for that matter, from this early scholastic point of view, was seen as a distortion of the orthodoxy; a blend of Buddhism and Hinduism with gross superstition, animism, sex, magic and the more base drives that lead us poor humans hither and thither. Jacob P. Dalton, in his recent book The Taming of the Demons: Violence and Liberation in Tibetan Buddhism, offers a clear and well thought out description of how some of the language and imagery found in the tantras have come to occupy a place of simultaneous attraction and disgust in all of the cultures the tantras have come to visit. It appears that the reactions of Victorian British scholars did not arises as an emotional island unto itself when it comes to the tantras- in Indian as well as Tibetan culture they were embraced and feared, accepted and rejected, praised and cursed.
Ironically, the shivering disgust and ambivalence of early western scholars towards tantric Buddhism reveals the power of becoming intimate with these feelings and reactions as they exist within ourselves. Superstition, animism, sex, magic, and our "base drives" can be sources of great confusion, great pain, loss of control, and even our undoing. Perhaps then it is no wonder that these aspects of our experience of life end up proving to be very powerful fodder with which we can develop confidence in our practice of Buddhism. As a chaplain I have seen patients, their loved ones, and even colleagues, struggle around these hard feelings- this is a struggle that we all share. No one person owns, or is cursed, with difficulty of struggling with guilt, shame, fear, loss, pain, and loss of control.
Within my own experience of life, I know that I often feel the push and the pull around my own anger, or sense of aggression, my impatience, my jealousy and my frustrations. These feelings arise just as generosity, patience, connection, and ease arise. The only difference is that when these harder feelings begin to swell, how they will affect me, either destroy or help to push me further along the path, seems to depend upon just how comfortably I can relate to them- how I can see them as they arise and honestly witness them- not quickly ignore them in exchange for something good. In my own way, one that changes from moment to moment, I have come to learn just how much I can be with these feelings in myself and see them as beneficial arisings. Not just see, but experience them as beneficial arisings, or as the 3rd Karmapa, Rangjung Dorje, refers to these thoughts/feelings, to see them as "adventitious stains". Stains that are adventitious as they help point out the one-taste in whatever arises.
Bokar Rinpoche once said during a series of teachings in Bodh Gaya that Tibetans complain to him the they don't understand western practitioners as they are always seen sitting perfectly still and erect, like statues. Similarly he related the complaints of western students about their Tibetan counterparts who always appear to be doing prostrations and khora (circumambuting) the mahabodhi stupa. He went on to explain to the mixed group that both are useful forms of practice- and that we should learn to modulate between both. At one time one form of practice is more appropriate, and as that moment changes, so might the way we practice in that new moment. Sometimes one form of practice is more useful, more charged, and more fitting for one's experiences of the moment. As the moment changes sometimes so does what is arising. I don't think that we can recognize our stainless buddha-nature by practicing like robots. I suspect that engaging with our practice, and all the maras that arise, in an open honest manner is the way.
So what about us? Do we have a tendency to frame ourselves as hero or anti-hero. Are we all light and no darkness? Do we only benefit beings and never harm them? Do we have the capability to look at our practice with a fresh set of eyes and knowingly step into the unknown? Do we see ourselves as clean and pure, or as blended and pure? Can we allow ourselves to modulate? To mix our view of ourselves with a more realistic presentation of what really arises within our mental continuum?
While there is no real difference between Mahakala and Chenrezig on an ultimate level, the experience of their relative differences can be very important- if not instrumental- in knowing who we are, how thoughts and feelings arise within us, and what the powerful energetic force of Mahakala is like. How else can we know equanimity in the midst of roaring intensity? Sometimes we need this to cut through our bad practice habits, our over-softness, and a predilection towards the positive- especially in a way that it's too bent on purity.
Can we rest in the nature of mind amidst vice, transgression, and fear?
Such was a profound learning for many great Indian Mahasiddhas including Virupa, Naropa, and Saraha as well as many great Tibetan siddhas. In fact it still remains a profound and seminal learning for us today. When to be "good" and when to be "bad"?
In fact, I sometimes wonder if Buddhism isn't too often presented in such a warm and fuzzy light in which it becomes easy to see the wrathful compassion of pawos and palmos as something other than and not of ourselves; something to be invoked from afar and for only getting rid of problems. Anger and ferocity are hardly rare emotions, greed and jealousy more often than not are not endangered, and tending towards a self-cherishing attitude is certainly one of the greatest thing that we all have in common. They arise from nowhere else but from within.
So why do we become concerned or uncomfortable when the "strong medicine" of Vajrakilaya or Throma becomes the prescribed remedy for our suffering. As the demon armies of Palden Lhamo ride past fearlessly destroying all impediments to our practice, effectively closing the door to our own limitations, and as the flesh-eating dakinis gratefully pledge protection and siddhis as we offer our own transformed inner poisons to them, where is the room for squeamishness?
Similarly, I sometimes find that when some dharma practitioners reference entering into in wrathful activity, I wonder about the presence of a facile idiotic aspect of "wrathfulness" that simply seeks to justify laziness. I know that this is something that I look for in myself as I know how seductive the pull to break the rules in an elevated way can be. Sometimes through the desire to engage in "transgressing the rules" and working with how those difficult emotions of knowing that you are doing something wrong or impure, we may actually be soft with ourselves around actually feeling like the rules don't apply to us. To bring whiskey and ribs to a tsok can be one thing if we can hold what alcohol and meat mean in the context of an offering to mahakala for example, or it can be an insulting self-aggrandizing slap in the face to what a mahakala tsok is all about. Herein lies the conundrum: How and when are we really acting from a place of authenticity as we decide to behave badly for the common good of other sentient beings?
Knowing when to be bad, or when to challenge conventions is never really an easy thing. Such behavior asks us to be confident in ourselves, confident in our abilities, and comfortable with growth that arises from difficulty. This too isn't easy- the habits of disempowering and brutalizing ourselves are strong. And yet, at times we must step into this aspect of practice; we must challenge conventions, habits and assumptions; we must find our ground and relationship with the strong and the dark, the wrathful and the powerful. For this is another side of buddha activity. Despite its danger (just one act of poor judgement can have terrible consequences), and the trepidation that can arise with knowing willful transgression there is a lot of room for growth in becoming friends with these expressions of "being bad".
That said, this kind of practice may not be for everyone- nor I suppose is it necessary for everyone. Although it helps to take an honest look at what comes alive for us when we look at the images that are included on this post before saying, "nah, I don't have any need touching my dark-side. I don't think I even have one". If these images elicit fear and concern, or feel attractive and seductive, or if they feel disgusting and repulsive then perhaps that is something to look at. If they feel foreign and "definitely not part of me" well perhaps another deeper look may be warranted. It may be that these natural reactions, honest indicators of what we really feel, hold a good deal of explanation of our relationship to wrathful Buddhas- about finding freedom within our difficult emotions, and remaining spacious when the right or wrong associated with where we are or what we are feeling is called into question.
How are we really when it comes to visualizing lakes of hot sticky blood these buddhas traverse, the flayed human and elephant skins that they wear as adornments, and the steamy snorting of the demonic animals that they ride?
What is being good? What is it to be bad? Our relationship with being good and with being bad can be very difficult and complex. The fear of blame and the need for praise, or quite frankly the inability to accept praise and the need for self-blame often affect they way we relate to much of the world. This is something to look at within ourselves. It may be that within popular culture the dark anti-hero is an increasingly popular metaphor, or even an archetype for where we are and what we feel we need; especially as the gravity of the simple good and bad, light and dark, simplicity of the dualism of our group ethics seems less pertinent. Perhaps we long for more- for different models of being, differing conceptions of justice that may include the liberating nature of wrathful buddhas. If this is the case, all we need to do is look within, and we will find a rich world, an endless thanka painted upon the canvas of our psyche that captures a limitless retinue of wisdom beings. May it be so!
A warm new year's greeting…
As 2011 dissolves away into another year I feel the need to offer a greeting to all of the dear readers of ganachakra. The wonderful support and warmth that you all offer me helps me to grow- it is a special relationship that we share; a relationship that I pray continues for many years to come.
With that said I pray that this "new" year is seen as just another momentary appearance; an expression of liberated mind.
May the mind be seen as beyond time.
May your practice be deep, and be intertwined with the blessings of your lineage masters.
May you effortlessly begin to empty the pit of samsara by benefiting all beings.
With respect and gratitude,
Karma Changchub Thinley (Repa Dorje Odzer)
On the view: the false dichotomy between dzogchen and mahamudra…
An old dharma friend named Jonny wrote me the other day with a question that he had. We had first met in 1995 down by Mungod in south India where he was teaching English at Drepung Loseling, and I was studying with Geshe Wangchen, under the kind graces of Lelung Rinpoche who at the time was dividing his time between Drepung Loseling and Nechung Monastary in Dharamsala.
Over the years as I came to meet and study under the late Kyabje Dorje Chang Bokar Rinpoche, and my path crossed with Jonny's and other dharma friends amidst the annual groundswell of dharma that occurs during the fall months in Bodh Gaya. It was there that I had the opportunity to introduce Jonny to this wonderful oceanic meditation master. From that point onwards that my relationship with Jonny changed to that of dharma brother, which is where we are in this moment.
After the tragic, unfortunate death of Kyabje Dorje Chang Bokar Rinpoche, most of his students were left in a place of loss and sadness. The confounding suddenness of his death created a barren confusion- I remember from my own experience that this was a terribly painful and confusing time. The loss of a teacher can be very painful. I had felt that there was an intimacy in my relationship with Bokar Rinpoche that made him feel like a father- it took a number of years to be able to return to his seat monastery in India without feeling a profound sense of loss and sadness.
Over time the, winds of karma, the great teacher that might be described as the impermanence of appearance, blew Jonny into the lap of Yangthang Rinpoche, and I into the lap of H.E. Gyaltsab Rinpoche. As our experiences arising from meditation practice change, and as we slowly try to blend whatever insights that arise from such experiences into our daily lives, we email from time to time- to check in and see where the other is.
In an email last month, Jonny wrote:


text:
Presented by Tom Barrett and Jay Rounds at the Rocky River Senior Center.
Come and listen to what it takes to restore your antique car. Tom Barrett and Jay Rounds will talk about their own vintage cars, experiences as well as the clubs and tours both have taken. You don't want to miss this enjoyable evening!