It was a long day preparing for the Sakyong’s arrival. Shambhala Mountain Center was abuzz with activity. The driveway was chalked with the auspicious symbols, and strewn with flower petals. The kitchen was readying the welcome feast. However, it would be false to say that all was joyful in anticipation. And while most were joyful much of the time, the truth is, all of us were crazy some of the time. The coming of the teacher brings a heightened sense of panic and neurosis. Everyone’s dark side was on display at some point in time. It seemed as though the environment was being purified for his arrival. And, it wasn’t just the emotions. The facilities would break down. In the days leading up to a “visit” anything that could go wrong would. It was as though Murphy himself were coming, whoever Murphy was.
Only, it wasn’t Murphy. It was the Guru. Our teacher. The man who had given up the dream of an ordinary life in Colorado in order to take over his father’s business. A business far from ordinary. A business that would demand a king-sized ransom, a twenty-four hour a day commitment, for the rest of his life. When the announcement came that he had taken the role of leader of the community he would later call Shambhala, I was sitting in a full tent at the end of a large program at Shambhala Mountain Center. The room of 300 people stood and cheered. I understand there was cheering across the international community. It was like a new day. Like the dawn of Vajrasattva. And, over the years we watched as that man who had been raised and trained as a leader all his life, realize that his father’s wishes for him. There would be no prom, no college, no fraternity, no regular job with weekends to spend with the dog at the lake. Instead, there would be further intensive study with the greatest teachers in his lineage, more protocol meetings with tutors, endless meetings with boards of trustees, more tours to raise awareness for the community and the great work of turning his father’s vision into a reality. A life of service. A life spent living meditation.
He came nearly every year to visit the centers. And, each visit, in all of the centers, the chaos rose in preparation, and then fell with his presence. That spring the chaos of our world was coming to a head in the hours before his arrival. I had time to go home and change, but no time to shower. When I came into my trailer it was a wreck. I had not had time to clean, or straighten. It didn’t seem right. I took the time and tore through the trailer. It seemed, even though he’d never come to visit my place, that to honor him, I had to honor myself. I threw out old magazines and covered the bed. Then I almost threw out a lily that was given me as a gift months before. Well into spring, it was only a twig that stubbornly had refused to bloom. It looked ridiculous, but I left it. I grabbed my jacket and tie and ran to the welcome line to await his arrival.
Despite the heightening of our craziness, a barrage of miscues and the slight drizzle that has chosen the very moment to begin, the whole day seemed to open when he arrived. All of us just relaxed. It was as though all of our neurosis had simply evaporated. He was with us, and at that moment the world seemed right. Heaven, earth and humanity fell into alignment.
When I went back to my trailer that night, I was elated and exhausted. I sat on my couch to take off my boots, but was too tired to undo the laces. I looked up and the lily had bloomed. A flood of warmth came over me. This is what it means to live in a kingdom of sanity. In the mythical Kingdom of Shambhala, it was said that all beings were regarded with respect and dignity. If we recognize and actualize the goodness in others, we activate their great human potential. In this way, we are seeing the best of them and allowing their best to be supported. And, when we do that, we see the best in ourselves. I sat with tears in my eyes, stupid in love with that flower and the moment that surrounded us.
I was fortunate enough to be on duty with him a few days later. He stood at the window of his room, looking out, hands clasped behind his back, surveying his world. It seemed perfect, this man, so humble and so wise helping to make sense of the world simply because he showed up. Simply by saying yes. Simply by being present in his life, he made our lives present, vibrant and real. And standing next to him, holding a glass of water on a silver tray, the world seemed just as it was. Perfect.
Then he turned and in all seriousness said, you know, if people are wiling to hire trainers for the body, they should be willing to hire trainers for the mind. We could start a gym for the mind, he had later said. Mental fitness. In his classic meditation manual Turning The Mind into an Ally, he said that people never think to look at the very tool that informs everything about life, the mind. We’ll train our body, obsess over our weight, and change our hair color monthly, but we seldom regard the actual instrument that is assessing, discerning and running our world. For him it was clear, his mandate was to bring meditation to life and to the lives of others. He envisioned a living, authentic practice that would actually be part of everyone’s daily life. In its way, the simple warrior’s practice of sitting still until the mind quieted, might be the most potent way to bring sanity to the world.
And, over the years, I’ve seen that living meditation in the Sakyong. With no separation between himself, his life and his practice his statement to the world is his presence. Present in his running practice, present in golf, present writing poetry, and giving talks. Present, as I have had the honor to have seen, in his daily life with his children and his family. Presence is gentleness. It is compassion, in that there is no aggression, or the thought of competition. With no reason to go elsewhere, the bodhisattva warrior is simply awake and available to the world.
As the chaos and cruelty of the world seems to heighten, as it sharpens its defensiveness and does its best to demean, delineate and destroy itself, the waking warrior can make a gentle, but definite, statement by LIVING meditation in every breath. We proclaim sanity each time we return to our body and make ourselves available to the world. Simply sit and train the mind to be present. And in the perfect quiet of each moment, that gentle stillness comes to life.