Chapter 2 - The Guru's Vision

A lonely hermitage on a mountain peak,
Towering above a thousand others---
One half is occupied by an old monk,
The other by a cloud!

Last night it was stormy
And the cloud was blown away,
After all a cloud is not equal
To the old man's quiet way.

---Ryokwan

The Lama Ngawang Kalzang had been meditating for twelve years in various caves and retreats in the wilderness of the mountains of Southern Tibet. Nobody knew him, nobody had heard of him. He was one of the many thousands of unknown monks who had received his higher education in one of the great monastic universities in the vicinity of Lhasa, and though he had acquired the title of Géshé (i.e. Doctor of Divinity), he had come to the conclusion that realisation can only be found in the stillness and solitude of nature, as far away From the noisy crowds of market-places as from the monkish routine of big monasteries and the intellectual atmosphere of famous colleges.

The world had forgotten him, and he had forgotten the world. This was not the outcome of indifference on his part but, on the contrary, because he had ceased to make a distinction between himself and the world. What actually he had forgotten was not the world but his own self, because the `world' is something that exists only in contrast to one's own ego.

Wild animals visited him in his caves and made friends with him, and his spirit went out in sympathy to all living beings. Thus he never felt lonely in his solitude, and enjoyed the bliss of emancipation born out of the exalted visions of Dhyāna.

One day a herdsman in search of new grazing grounds had lost his way in the inaccessible wilderness of rocks high above the valley when he heard the rhythmic beats of a ḍamaru (a small hour-glass-like hand-drum, used by Lamas and wandering ascetics during their invocations) mingled with the silvery sound of a ritual bell. At first he did not believe his ears, because he could not imagine that any human being could exist in this forbidding place. But when the sound came again and again fear filled him, because if these sounds had no human origin then they could only have some supernatural cause.

Torn between fear and curiosity, he followed the sound, as if drawn by the irresistible force of a magnet, and soon he saw the figure of a hermit, seated before a cave, deeply absorbed in his devotional practice. The hermits body was lean but not emaciated, and his face serene, lit up with the fire of inspiration and devotion. The herdsman immediately lost all fear, and after the hermit had finished his invocations he confidently approached the Lama and asked for his blessing.

When the hermit's hand touched the crown of his head he felt a stream of bliss flowing through his body, and he was filled with such unspeakable peace and happiness that he forgot all the questions he had wanted to ask, and hurried down into the valley to bring the happy news of his discovery to the people there.

These people at first could hardly believe the news, and when the herdsman led some of them to the hermit's cave they were wonder struck. How could any human being live in this almost inaccessible mountain fastness? From where did he get his food, since nobody knew of his existence? How could he endure the hardships of winter, when the mountains were covered with snow and ice and even the smallest footpaths were obliterated, so that neither Fuel nor food could be obtained? Certainly only a hermit endowed with superhuman yogic powers could survive under such conditions.

The people threw themselves at the feet of the Hermit-Lama, and when he blessed them they felt as if their whole being was transformed into a vessel of peace and happiness. It gave them a foretaste of what every human being can attain to when he realises the dormant powers of light, which are buried like seeds deep within his soul.

The Hermit-Lama merely made them participate in the bliss of his own achievement, so that they might be encouraged to follow the same path towards liberation.

The rumour of the wondrous hermit spread in the valleys like wildfire. But, alas, only those who were strong enough could venture to climb up to the hermits cave, and since there were many who were thirsting for spiritual guidance, the people of the valley implored the Lama to settle among them for the benefit of all who needed his help. The hermit knew that the hour had come for him to return to the world of men, and true to his Bodhisattva-vow he renounced the bliss of solitude for the welfare of the many.

There was a very small and poor monastery in the valley from which the people had come, called the Monastery of the White Conch (Dungkar Gompa). It was situated on a steep hill with a rocky crest in the middle of a fertile wheat-growing valley called Tomo (`To' = wheat). This place was given to the Hermit-Lama, who from now on was known as Tomo Géshé Rimpoché, `The Learned Jewel of the Wheat Valley'.

Soon monks and laymen came from far and wide to learn at the feet of Tomo Géshé and in a very short time the Monastery of the White Conch grew into an important place of study and worship, with beautiful temples and spacious living-quarters. In the great hall of the main temple Tomo Géshé erected a gigantic golden statue of Buddha Maitréya, the Coming One, as a symbol of the spiritual future and rebirth of the Eternal Truth of the Dharma, which is reincarnated in very Enlightened One and is to be rediscovered in every human heart.

Tomo Géshé, however, did not content himself with the success of his work at Dungkar. He erected statues of Maitréya in many other places and made the followers of the Buddha-Dharma conscious of the fact that it was not sufficient to bask in the glories of the past, but that one must lake active part in the shaping of the future, and thus make it possible for the coming Buddha to appear in this world by preparing our minds for his reception.

In the midst of all these activities an event took place which was as startling as the Hermit-Lama's discovery and return to the world.

It came about through the intervention of the State Oracle of Lhasa (Nächung), which directed Tomo Géshé to make a pilgrimage to Chorten Nyima, a place sacred to Padmasambhava, who was the first to establish Buddhism in Tibet and who, therefore, is held in the highest esteem, especially by the older schools of Tibetan tradition.

This is of particular significance because it throws light upon the interesting fact that one of the most important events in Tomo Géshé's life was thus connected with the earliest period of Tibetan Buddhism, in which Western Tibet and especially Tsaparang played an important part.

Chorten Nyima is situated in one of the highest parts of the Tibetan plateau near the northern border of Sikkim. The place is wide and open, with snow-peaks here and there piercing the deep blue sky characteristic of these altitudes. It is a place where heaven and earth meet on equal terms, where the landscape has the vastness and rhythm of the open sea, and the sky the depth of universal space. It is a place where you feel near to the celestial bodies, where sun and moon are your neighbours and the stars your friends.

And here it happened that those very Buddhas and Bodhisattvas, who inspired the artists of Tsaparang and took visible shape through their hands, appeared again in visible form before the eyes of Tomo Géshé Rimpoché. They appeared against the dark blue sky, as if woven of light, dazzling in all the colours of the rainbow, while slowly moving from the eastern to the western horizon.

The vision was first seen by the Rimpoché alone, but just as a great artist is able to make his visions visible to others by re-creating them in various materials, the Guru, by the creative power of his mind, made this wonderful vision visible to all who were present. Not all of them were able to see the full extent of it, or to see it as completely as the Guru. It varied according to the capacity or receptivity of the individual mind.

It is not possible for anybody who was not present, and perhaps even for those who were, to put into adequate words the sublime beauty and the profound effect of this vision upon the beholders. However, in the Śūraṇgama Sūtra we find the description of a similar event (said to have taken place in the presence of Buddha Śākyamuni), of which a paraphrase may serve as the nearest approach to the vision of Chorten Nyima.

The Blessed Lord, sitting upon the throne in the midst of Buddhas and Bodhisattvas from all the ten quarters of the universe, manifested his transcendental glory, surpassing them all --- From his hands and feet and body radiated supernal beams of light that rested upon the crown of each Buddha and Bodhisattva assembled here.

And equally from the hands and feet and bodies of all those Buddhas and Bodhisattvas of the ten quarters of the universe went forth rays of glorious brightness that converged upon the crown of the Lord Buddha, and upon the crowns of all the Buddhas and Bodhisattvas and Saints present.

At the same time, the waters and waves of brooks and streams were singing the music of the Dharma, and all the intersecting rays of brightness were like a net of splendour, set with jewels and over-arching them all.

Such a marvellous sight had never been imagined and held all who were present in silence and awe. Unwittingly they passed into the blissful state of Samādhi. And upon them all an unspeakable peace and happiness descended like a gentle rain of soft petals of many different-coloured lotus-blossoms, all blending together and being reflected into the open space of heaven in all the tints of the spectrum.

Moreover, all the differentiations of mountains and waters and rocks and plants, and all that makes up our common world, blended into one another and faded away, leaving only the indescribable experience of primordial unity --- not dull and inert, but vibrant with rhythmic life and light, with celestial sounds of songs and harmonies, melodiously rising and falling and merging and then fading away into silence.

After the party had returned to Dungkar Gompa each of the eyewitnesses described what he had seen, and from the combined records, with the final sanction of the Guru (who reluctantly gave in to the wishes of his disciples to have the scene recorded in the form of a fresco), the painting was conscientiously executed.

One of the last witnesses of this memorable incident is the present abbot of Dungkar Gompa. He not only gave his permission to take photographs of this interesting fresco in one of Tomo Géshé's private apartments, but explained every detail of the painting, while relating his own experiences of this pilgrimage. He pointed out what he had seen with his own eyes, and ako what he had not been able to see, but what apparently had been visible to others. He also mentioned the strange fact that the vision had remained visible for hours, so that all who saw it could observe and point out to each other the minutest details.

This vision had far-reaching effects upon Tomo Géshé as well as upon his disciples. It invested him with that superior authority which in Tibet is ascribed only to Tulkus, i.e. those in whom the Bodhisattva-spirit or the ideal of Buddhahood, has taken firm root, so that they have become its living embodiment. They have the power to direct their future rebirths according to the needs of their fellow-men.

And from now on Tomo Géshé conceived the idea to bring the teachings of the Enlightened Ones not only to the people of his own country but to the world at large, irrespective of race, caste, colour, or creed.

And so he stepped out of his quiet valley and travelled all over the countries of the Himalayas and to the sacred places of Buddhism in India. And wherever he went he planted hope and inspiration in the Hearts of men; he healed the sick, taught those who were ready to receive the truth of the Dharma, and left in his wake many a disciple to carry on the work which the Buddhas had ordained him to do.