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Posts tagged ‘Ann McNeil (Anila Ann)’

Miracle at Mullumbimby, Australia

Lama Yeshe on the hill, 1975From 1975: We Need a Foundation by Adele Hulse, Big Love author:

That same day, 24 October 1975, is engraved forever in the minds of Australian students Gloria and Bill Searle. At the fourth Kopan course Lama Yeshe had paid considerable attention to the Searles’ small son, Adam, and had warned them at the time that the child was reckless.

Gloria and Bill lived on a small farm at Mullumbimby in New South Wales, Australia, prime hippie country. On that day in October 1975 Adam, then six years old, was playing with his little friend, Jason, at the edge of a dam on the property. Bill was working in the herb garden just below it.

“It was about two o’clock in the afternoon,” recalled Bill Searle. “Adam and Jason were chasing dragonflies around the dam and nagging me to take them to the beach. Suddenly I heard Jason yell, ‘Come back, Adam!’ Something in the tone of his voice made me climb up there. Jason was standing knee deep in this thick brown water pointing to a flat empty space. I remember thinking very strongly that I just didn’t want to acknowledge this. I just wanted to walk away, pretend it wasn’t happening. But I stripped off and jumped in. I swam up and down that dam for I don’t know how long. Twice I had to crawl out and vomit up all the filthy brown water I’d swallowed. Little Jason just stood there, mute.

“Then I found Adam, face down in the mud under ten feet of icy cold water. I got hold of him but his little body slipped out of my grasp before I got to the surface. To make things worse, I had to get out and vomit again, because I was full of water. I went back in and got him and he was entirely dead. I wasn’t even going to attempt resuscitation.

“Then I had a vision of Lama Yeshe. I can’t describe it other than to say he was there, standing on the rise on the other side of the dam. The vision was absolutely clear and seemed completely external—outside of me. He appeared to be a little bigger than normal size but not huge. He was in robes and bathed in this golden light and was looking directly at me. It was like a reality check, because everything happening right then was pretty unreal. The message I got from him was that there was something I could do about it, that I was not unempowered.

“I immediately started doing CPR, which I’d recently learned on a building site first-aid course. By now Gloria knew what was happening and had raced off to find a telephone. We didn’t have one then. Completely out of the blue a friend arrived and took over doing mouth-to-mouth. My breathing had become pretty irregular, but I was able to keep up doing the heart massage. I felt Adam’s heart give a kick and realized he might come back. When the ambulance came we took him to a hospital forty minutes away. We had oxygen on him by this time and I just kept up working away at his heart. A doctor friend of ours happened to be on duty in the emergency room. He took us aside and said, ‘You should hope he does not live because he’s full of very dirty water, has a huge brain edema and badly damaged lungs.’ We estimated that he’d been under the water for ten minutes.”

“Everyone started praying for him,” recounted Gloria Searle. “Every church in Mullumbimby held a service for him. Two days later he was still in a coma and everyone was sure he would die. Anila Ann was visiting the town at the time and invited us to a puja they were having for Adam, but we couldn’t go. We were just too upset.

“The next day Adam woke up, pulled out all the equipment he was hooked up to and sat up. Our doctor friend told us he was completely clean and had only very slight brain damage, which might show up during adolescence. The only sign of it we ever noticed was his poor ball-handling skills. He grew up to be a healthy man and became an environmental lawyer.

“The really surprising thing about the vision of Lama was that it happened to Bill, not to me. He wasn’t a Dharma student to the same extent as I was. He hadn’t even thought about Lama Yeshe for a long time prior to that day. I heard later about a drowning incident in America and learned that the body just shuts down at certain temperatures, allowing for just enough blood to reach the brain to keep it ticking. Our dam water was pretty cold at the bottom, so I think that was it.”

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The First Course at Chenrezig Institute

Lamas having lunch, 1975From 1975: We Need a Foundation by Adele Hulse, Big Love author:

Lama Yeshe gave two lectures in Brisbane before arriving at Chenrezig Institute in time for a month-long course, the second such meditation course held outside Nepal. One hundred and twenty people had enrolled for it. Anila Ann and her team had all but finished building the gompa on that steep empty land at Eudlo. The work had been done mainly by volunteers, qualified tradespeople turning up just in the nick of time and seemingly out of the blue. Ann had raised the money to pay for every plank and nail, though she was still living in the old shed.

Once again caravans were hired for the lamas and Mummy Max, who was not impressed. “I said to Lama, ‘Oh God, Lama, what karma you have! These camper trailers, no roads, no nothing.’ ‘It’s not for me, it’s for them,’ he told me,” recalled Max.

Lama had a big vision for this center. In 1974 he had told them, “Think big! Think big!” That year, a horse called Think Big had won the world-famous Melbourne Cup. In 1975 Think Big won the cup again. No one had thought to place a bet.

The course ran from May 5 to June 1. Mummy Max did not attend. Nor did Kathy Vichta, with whom Lama Yeshe spent some time cooking. “He showed me how to save time by squashing things with your hand instead of cutting them up. It worked just as well. He made a casserole one day by opening cans and just squashing the contents into bowls and saying mantras over them. Lama always said mantras while he cooked. He put so much physical energy into mundane stuff, like it was a really important part of his life,” said Kathy.

Lama’s students presented him with an electric razor, despite the fact that he had only about twenty whiskers. He preferred the Tibetan method of plucking them out with a small engraved brass clip during quiet breakfasts with Mummy Max.

Cameras always appeared when Lama Yeshe was around. Everyone loved new photos of him—dancing on the beach, sitting in meditation, laughing, playing. With the idea of commissioning a statue of Lama, Max arranged for a series of shots taken just of his head, from every angle. He posed for these graciously and without any self-consciousness.

Pete Northend and Colin Crosbie worked hard on the new building but Lama Yeshe wanted his wild-partying, hard-drinking shing-zö to enter a thirteen-year retreat. “I just couldn’t do it,” said Pete. “No way!”

Meanwhile, Electric Roger was thinking of becoming a monk. “I spoke to Lama Yeshe about it in Sydney. He said that I should check up whether I could renounce everything, even food. He said if I wasn’t ready to do that I could start up a center in Sydney. When I got to Chenrezig, I had an interview with him in the gompa. He was sitting alone in the middle of the room. I knew I was supposed to prostrate to him, but I still couldn’t bow down to a person. So I turned and prostrated to the altar instead. When I told him I wanted to take robes he just said, ‘Now or at Kopan?’ I said I’d come to Kopan.”

Lama Yeshe invited Mummy Max to give a talk on what had led her to take ordination. Max was not used to this kind of thing. Lama further honored her by insisting she sit on the teaching throne while speaking.

Peter Fenner arrived in time for one of Lama Zopa’s specialities, the death meditation. “It shifted something for me,” recounted Peter. “I knew about my dark side, so I loved the idea of purification. I met Lama Yeshe alone in the gompa and asked him to be my guru. I had a list of questions I didn’t even get to ask because he answered them anyway. In the space of about twenty minutes he also articulated the next twenty years of my life. He suggested I come and live at Chenrezig with my wife and daughter. ‘I want you to become a university professor and teach Dharma,’ he said. It wasn’t exactly what I was planning, but I had total confidence in him,” said Peter.

On 24 May 1975, Lama wrote a letter to Judy Weitzner in California, asking her to write the book His Holiness the Dalai Lama had requested, Tibetan People Today:

Please choose right name that is perfect, suitable and pays attention. Maybe make a documentary movie? Please you set up and organize. Should we adopt a legal name? You put your ideas together on paper and send to me in California.

“Lama had spoken to me about this book before,” said Judy. “I told him I didn’t think I could do much. ‘Yes, you can. You’re Chenrezig. You have a thousand arms and you can do what you want,’ was his reply. I went to Kopan to live in Max’s house and taught the boys English. I planned to meet Lama again in Switzerland,” said Judy. In her quiet way Judy Weitzner was actually a political firebrand. The Free Speech Movement, which developed into the anti-Vietnam War effort in America, had its origins in her Berkeley apartment. Judy produced the first ever Free Tibet bumper stickers, but the book Lama Yeshe described never saw the light of day.

A week before the end of the course, to celebrate the Buddha’s birthday (Saka Dawa), Lama Yeshe asked everyone to come outside after a Guru Puja and to meditate together on the hill behind the gompa. “Lama and Rinpoche sat above us, right on the top of the hill,” said Adrian Feldmann. “We meditated for about fifteen minutes during which time I had a very strong vision of four-armed Chenrezig and a green lady. At that time I didn’t know about Green Tara at all. I’ve never had another vision like that one. It just appeared in my mind that Lama was Tara and Rinpoche was Chenrezig.”

A couple of days before the course ended, Phra Somdet, abbot of Wat Bovoranives, who had offered lunch to the lamas in Bangkok two months earlier, visited the center. He was accompanied by Phra Khantipalo, Ayya Khema, and some Thai monks from Sydney. Lama instructed his students to line up and formally welcome them, while he bounced around with his camera taking photos and laughing freely, in total contrast to the very sober demeanor of his visitors. The abbot gave a Dharma talk to the Westerners who were still there at the center; Lama Yeshe sat in the very front row for the talk.

At the end of the month-long course, fifty people took refuge with Lama Yeshe. Also, fifty-eight received a Chenrezig empowerment and forty-five received a Tara empowerment.

A number of those who had attended the course planned to do group retreat together but Adrian Feldmann wanted to do retreat alone. “I went to see Lama in his caravan and told him. He said that was fine, adding, ‘Whenever a question comes into your mind I want you to write me a letter.’ I said, ‘Okay,’ even though I knew I was going to be in an extremely remote spot and miles from any letter-box.”

One of the lamas’ last tasks in Queensland was to write to Peter Guiliano in Melbourne, thanking him for his many services:

Dear Peter Juliyana, thank you so much for your giving pure Dharma. As much as possible practise wisdom light and giving energy to other students. Please write what everyone is doing nowaday. I want to check up your daily life. So report! Keep continuously energetic wisdom bell ringing. Chenrezig Institute is fantastic!

See you next year, psychic kiss.

Love love love love Lama Yeshe

 

On the way to the airport, Lama Yeshe stopped to buy an orange plastic mug for everyone at Kopan. “These are very good, dear; not too hot to hold,” he said. The lamas then missed their flight to Sydney. Anila Ann felt sad about the lamas’ departure. “Don’t you like it here?” asked Lama. “Oh, Lama,” said Ann, “you know all I want to do is live in your pocket.”

Back at Chenrezig, the retreaters settled into a regimen of silence and a diet of macrobiotic food. Lama Yeshe had left a taped message for them, which they played every day:

Good morning, golden flower students. Enjoy divine wisdom chanting as much possible, cultivate or activate wisdom action and stay in the universal compassion wisdom, never come down in supermarket. Worthwhile. See you soon in the everlasting peaceful sky. Stay.

 

Such simple words filled their hearts and minds with more satisfaction than years of formal education ever could.

The Diamond Valley Course, Australia

The gompa at Diamond Valley, 1974From 1974: Introducing Adamantine Being (Vajrasattva) by Adele Hulse, Big Love author:

Nick Ribush’s old friends, Tom and Kathy Vichta, together with a team of students, had worked for eight months preparing for this course. It was to be held on an open piece of land out in the bush situated beside a pretty creek near the Vichtas’ small farm in Diamond Valley, which was in southeast Queensland. Pete Northend appeared just in time to build a small two-roomed cabin for the lamas out of mill ends lined with Styrofoam. Their cold water standpipe was the most sophisticated plumbing on site. The only hot water available came from a 44-gallon drum suspended over a fire.

After arriving in Sydney with the lamas, Anila Ann had immediately traveled to Diamond Valley to make sure everything was ready. Two hundred people turned up for the thirty-day course, and despite certain physical discomforts, the dropout rate was remarkably low. A big marquee sat above a tent city like a scene from the gold rush era. There was a “main street” and little clusters of tents tucked into gullies here and there. The kitchen tent had been set up beside the creek and tree trunks dragged into a semi-circle to serve as seating. The cuisine was rigidly purist—a macrobiotic diet of brown rice, vegetables, tofu, and miso,
all washed down with soy bean coffee and alfalfa tea.

Out in the tent city however, secret cakes were shared in the dark, cheeses were stashed away, and real coffee was brewed in out-of-the-way gullies. A few minor fights even broke out over sweet biscuits.

A local farmer, Ilse Lederman, decided to attend the course. At their first meeting Lama Yeshe told her that he had been a nun in his previous life and had a particular fondness for nuns. Ilse didn’t know what to make of that, but some years later she was ordained in the Theravadan tradition as Ayya Khema; she eventually wrote many books and became one of the best-known Buddhist nuns in the world.

Ilse’s husband, Gerd Lederman, provided a very special service: Every day he disposed of the contents of the portable lavatories.

The course followed the usual rigorous Kopan timetable. Everyone struggled to sit still on the plastic covered straw, which squeaked every time someone moved.

Yeshe Khadro, however, moved not an inch. YK’s mother lived nearby and Lama took time out to pay her a visit. “Marie was so happy and shining that I no longer worried about her being a Buddhist nun,” said Corrie Obst, a Catholic. “Lama Yeshe came to lunch and afterward he put one of those white scarves around me. It’s a funny thing but when my husband had died a few years before, my whole world had collapsed. When he gave me that scarf, all the worry and stress I’d been living with seemed to leave me. It never did come back,” she said.

Pete Northend had arrived in Australia with his Scottish friend from Kopan, Colin Crosbie, and another couple. It had been a long wild hippie ride that had ended in a confrontation with a female immigration officer in Singapore, where long hair on men was forbidden. “We all knew about the rules in Singapore so I tried to hide as much of it as I could by tying it up,” Pete described, “but she noticed it. So I lied, I said it was for religious reasons. She put ‘suspected hippie in transit’ on my passport and an armed guard escorted me onto the ship. But I kept my long hair.

“When the lamas arrived at Diamond Valley, Anila Ann asked me to draw their water. I didn’t really want them to see me because I just knew they would be right on my case. I crept up to their house very quietly. Well, Lama Yeshe was onto me in a flash. ‘Shing zö! How was your trip?’ he asked. I told him it was okay but that I’d had a bit of a problem with my long hair. ‘Well, if you have an attachment problem with your hair I can fix it very quick! I can chop it off!’ I knew I was attached to my hair and I felt bad about lying in Singapore so I said, ‘Okay, cut it off.’ Well, he absolutely massacred it. That same day five other people tried to even it up and in the end I had no hair at all. I looked ridiculous!”

Distracting love affairs were not unusual during courses. One student who had already attended several courses fell head over heels in love with a girl attending the course. It was love at first sight for him and he fondly imagined she felt the same. Unable to concentrate on Lama Zopa’s teachings, he went to see Lama Yeshe. “He listened patiently as I described how perfect, how psychic and magic my relationship with this girl was. Then he said, ‘Right now, dear, your mind is 100 percent deluded. She’s no different to this,’ and he tapped the Styrofoam wall lining. ‘You’re 100 percent deluded!’ I was annoyed by this and got up to leave. Suddenly he leapt off the bed, pinned me to the chair and, clamping his right hand on to my shoulder, stood over me, mumbling and blowing onto the crown of my head while vigorously rubbing up and down my spine with his left hand. It worked, because all my totally disturbing thoughts about this girl just died down. I was able to put them on hold until the end of the course.”

Lama Yeshe knew all about his students’ love affairs, about the chocolate stashes and their drug-taking. One day some of the wilder ones dropped some LSD and disappeared into the bush. “All of a sudden we looked up to see Lama Yeshe ahead of us skipping along from rock to rock and waving, not showing any displeasure or censure.”

Hank Sinnema was unsure if he wanted to remain at the course. “I skipped the teachings one day and was strolling around the bush when I spotted Lama Yeshe ahead of me. As he approached I started to feel apprehensive. He must have sensed this because he stopped and just stood looking at me. From his eyes beamed such a stream of love and compassion that my heart opened and I just felt transformed. To me he looked just like Saint Nicholas, from my Dutch childhood.” Running into people when they most needed it was part of Lama’s special magic.

The lamas took a day off to go to the beach in Tom Vichta’s van. Everyone got out to enjoy the view from the cliffs, but Lama Yeshe ran straight down to the water’s edge, hitched up his robes and waded in, splashing about with delight. He cupped the water in his hands and washed his face, leaping back in surprise at its saltiness. He had glimpsed the ocean in Calcutta and America but this appears to have been his first close encounter with it.

The ocean did not have the same appeal for Lama Zopa. He sat down to meditate against a tree, his back to the view, saying prayers for the sea creatures. No amount of encouragement would persuade him to stop and play. Lama was all for buying bathing shorts and diving in, but it was a Sunday and in those days that meant that all the shops were shut.

Peter Nelson was nineteen years old when he went to Diamond Valley. “One night I had an interview with Lama Yeshe. While I was waiting it started to rain, so I crawled under their little cabin to keep dry. I could hear Lama Yeshe walking around above me. From Lama Zopa’s room I could just hear his mala scraping the floor as he said mantras. During Rinpoche’s first teaching I had burst out crying, so I crept over and sat right under where I could hear his mala and imagined his blessings coming down through the crown of my head. I ran out when ants started biting me.

“A door opened and Lama Zopa called me into his room, which was pitch dark. He just sat there and held my hand while I cried for twenty minutes.

“When Lama Yeshe’s visitor left, he came to Rinpoche’s room and, in that lovely way of his, said, ‘You wanted to see me, dear?’ I had two questions: What was the difference between Buddha and Krishna? ‘None,’ he said. And how do I find my guru? He opened his eyes wide. ‘Dear, don’t you know?’ he said. ‘Lama Zopa is your guru.’”

Having the lamas in Australia and attending a meditation course among the gum trees was just too wonderful. On sunny days Lama Yeshe would lounge luxuriously on his tiny verandah, resplendent in a vivid cerise kaftan. One very hot day, a number of dedicated students met together and decided to build a permanent Australian center. That same afternoon, while everyone else was in the tent with Rinpoche and Lama Yeshe was alone in his little cabin, a bushfire broke out in the valley. Somebody had the presence of mind to hit the big dinner gong. Everybody rushed out to see fire rapidly approaching the cabin. “Quick, Lama!” they shouted, banging on his door. “Get out now! The fire is coming this way and your cabin is lined in plastic! It will go up like a bomb!” Lama just laughed at them. He told his frantic students that the fire was an auspicious omen indicating that the new Queensland center would grow very quickly. The fire stopped a hundred meters from the cabin. Lama Yeshe never even came out of his room to watch. Rinpoche just continued teaching.

The Sixth Kopan Meditation Course

Rinpoche teaching, Kopan, 1974From 1974: Introducing Adamantine Being (Vajrasattva) by Adele Hulse, Big Love author:

It was springtime in Nepal; the days were starting to get warmer, the weather was generally sunny and breezy, dry and dusty, while the nights were still quite chilly. The sixth meditation course began on 22 March 1974. Preparations had been going on for several weeks. The big tent behind the gompa came from army headquarters in Kathmandu and was installed at the very last minute. The army even sent Gurkhas to Kopan to help set it up.

The meditation course was well known along the hippie trail, a cool thing to do if you were spiritual—and it was definitely cool to be spiritual in the Himalayas. Nepal was a magical place to be and the wonderful views over the Kathmandu Valley could not fail to lift hearts and minds.

Harvey Horrocks, Peter Kedge’s friend from the aeronautical division of Rolls-Royce, had returned to Nepal to do the course. Yeshe Khadro managed the office. Thanks to Mummy Max asking Roger, a tall skinny Australian lad, what he did for a living, there was now some electricity at Kopan—parts of it, at least. This young electrician was thereafter known as Electric Roger.

Anila Ann led the meditation sessions and Chötak did all the shopping for the community. Lama Yeshe knew he would never waste a penny. “Lama used to call me ‘the backward Indian boy,’” said Chötak. “He knew I couldn’t possibly fit in with the sort of regime the new Sangha were into.” Losang Nyima had been sent to work at Tushita in Dharamsala as the housekeeper.

Once the course got started, Lama Zopa Rinpoche relentlessly unraveled the sufferings of existence, particularly those of the lower realms of existence—the hot and cold hells, and the realm of the pretas. Rinpoche also spoke at length on the shortcomings of seeking pleasure for oneself and the immense value of caring for others. But the spiritually cool wanted auras, astral travel, and tantric sex.

Two hundred and fifty people enrolled for the course; within two weeks over seventy had left. Lama Yeshe didn’t mind at all—he even made a comment about “junk” people. “Junk” was one of his newest words.

Many people were finding meditation to be very difficult and the group was becoming increasingly agitated. “One morning Lama called me to breakfast,” said Peter Kedge. “He made oatmeal and served it to me. I don’t know what it was but it was the most delicious oatmeal I have ever eaten in my life. After I’d finished, Lama said that I had to give a talk and tell everyone that nobody invited them to come, but as long as they are here they have to follow the discipline, follow the program, and keep the five precepts. Anyone was welcome to leave if they didn’t like it.”

By the third week of the course the tension was palpable. One day, a man stood at the back of the tent holding up his watch and calling out that it was time that Lama Zopa stopped talking. Time was never anything to Rinpoche. Some accused him of brainwashing. Just before the afternoon tea break a sudden storm erupted but ended just as quickly, leaving in its wake spectacular double rainbows in the valley below. Immediately the group tension just melted away. An hour later a bird flew into the tent and perched on someone’s shoulder.

During one meditation session several students found themselves rocking back and forth involuntarily. Someone had already asked Lama Zopa about this unusual sensation that some people experienced during meditation. Rinpoche put it down to a simple lack of control. However, this time the flowering plant on the throne was also rocking. Actually, the earth itself was shuddering. “Meditate on bodhicitta; it is very important!” Rinpoche instructed. If this was going to be the last moment in their lives, the one truly valuable act they could do was to generate the compassionate wish to be of maximum benefit to others. Then everything went dead quiet. Moments later the valley below filled with the frightened barking of hundreds of dogs and the anxious cries of villagers. Three separate earth tremors followed but no real damage was done.

* * *
From Lama Zopa Rinpoche’s sixth meditation course teachings:

Bodhicitta is a pure thought. Its essence is caring more for others than yourself. This is the opposite of the thought that always puts yourself first, the mind that thinks, “I am the most important of all.” The person with bodhicitta thinks that others are more important. This is the complete opposite of self-cherishing—you always want to sacrifice yourself in order to benefit others, to give pleasure to others, to free others from suffering, to enlighten other sentient beings.

And anybody can practice bodhicitta. It doesn’t depend on your color, caste, race, class or the way you dress. It doesn’t even depend upon your religion—even Christians, Hindus, Muslims, Jews, anybody can practice bodhicitta.

No matter what you are called, you need to develop this pure thought because with it you never give harm to either yourself or other beings; not the tiniest atom of trouble. And besides not giving even an atom of harm, bodhicitta always keeps you and others in peace. With this pure thought in mind there’s no way you can hurt others in any way. Furthermore, anything you do for the benefit of others, such as making charity, teaching Dharma and so forth, is all the more pure and sincere; these actions are pure since they’re done with the motivation of wanting to release others from problems. The more an action is pure and sincere, the more beneficial it becomes.

Bodhicitta is especially important if you’re serious about desiring world peace. People who achieve bodhicitta can never give trouble to others out of jealousy, pride, avarice or aggression because these minds come from the self-cherishing thought and bodhicitta completely eliminates it. If everybody had bodhicitta, world peace would become a real possibility. Peace doesn’t depend so much on action—giving lectures, holding conferences, building things and so forth—because if what is done is tainted by the self-cherishing thought, even though its intention is to bring world peace, it is not pure and it won’t bring peace. If an action is motivated by self-cherishing, delusion, greed or hatred it cannot be pure. Therefore it cannot benefit others that much, it doesn’t have much power to benefit. Also, it can cause complications and suffering.

Anyway, actions done out of the negative mind are not the cause of peace, not the cause of happiness. They cause only suffering for self and others because they are rooted in negativity. Peace and happiness result from positive actions; positive actions arise from a pure mind.

So, if you really want to experience peace and bring peace to everybody on earth, you should not put so much energy into developing external objects but redirect it into developed and changing the mind—your own and others’. The negative mind is the cause of turmoil and suffering. Work at eradicating this poisonous root of suffering, which reaches deep into sentient beings’ minds, and planting the healing root of happiness, bodhicitta.

* * *

Adrian Feldmann, a doctor from Melbourne who knew all Nick’s friends, didn’t enjoy that course at all. He regularly marched off down to Boudha for steak dinners. Like many newcomers, especially the Jewish ones, Adrian was appalled by the practice of prostrating. He also suspected there was a lot of brainwashing going on. Yet every time he tried to better Lama Zopa in an argument, he got nowhere. At one point when Rinpoche was talking about the subtle aspects of death, Adrian stood up and said, “Do you mean to tell me that all those people I have certified dead were not really dead?” He was clearly outraged by the thought. Lama Yeshe had yet to make an appearance.

One day Adrian walked out in the middle of a discourse and climbed to the top of the ancient hill overlooking the gompa. “Three Nepalese children looking after their goats sat down beside me and offered me some boiled sweets,” said Adrian. “This is reality, I thought. What was going on down there in the tent, that wasn’t reality. I looked across to the gompa balcony and there was Lama Yeshe, quietly watching me. Suddenly I knew exactly what was going to happen next. Sure enough, a few minutes later he appeared at my side and looking me square in the eye said, ‘If you want power, get back into that tent.’ That really floored me because it was the Carlos Castaneda/Don Juan spiritual power thing that interested me about Buddhism. But I looked back at him and said, ‘No.’ He just turned, talked to the children for a moment, and left. That was my first meeting with Lama Yeshe,” said Adrian.

When it was time for Lama Yeshe’s talk everyone was nicely keyed up and expecting relief, insight, and laughter. Everyone sat in the tent and waited and waited. Suddenly peals of high-pitched laughter burst forth. Lama Yeshe flung aside the zen covering his face—he had crept in and sat down among the students without even one of them noticing. It reduced everyone to tears of laughter.

Adrian Feldmann was ready to do battle during the question-and-answer session. As a doctor he was not impressed with the concept of reincarnation and argued back and forth about the signs of death. Lama Yeshe insisted that death was accompanied by subtle signs that continued to manifest long after what was called clinical death. Adrian sulked. Western doctors are used to being right. When someone asked about the causes of schizophrenia, Lama Yeshe said that these lay in confused messages received in one’s childhood, leading to an inability to make decisions, heightened sensitivity, and paranoia. Suddenly Adrian was impressed. He had recently worked in a psychiatric hospital and shared exactly that view—one also held by the famous British psychiatrist, R. D. Laing.

“What would you know about it?” called one student aggressively from the back. “Are you speaking from experience?” Lama put his hands together in prayer and leaned forward. “Of course, dear, how else would you like me to speak? From a book?”

A highly qualified biologist then asked several complex questions about sentience in plants. She had stories of cacti traveling, grieving, and showing signs of pleasure. Surely if an ant was sentient, weren’t plants sentient, too? Because Lama Yeshe’s English was so basic her questions had to be very simply worded, which meant everyone could understand them. Lama replied that organic elemental energy is not the same as sentience. Cacti are not sentient, as they do not have the potential to reach enlightenment.

One of Lama Yeshe’s favorite teaching words was “chocolate,” which signified to him all that was delicious and pleasurable, even blissful, in life. For example: “Enlightenment is not just chocolate at the end, in a lump. It is chocolate, chocolate, chocolate all the way!”

 

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