by John Swearingen
One morning at Rigdzin Ling Rinpoche said he thought it would be a good idea to go on pilgrimage again. When he was asked how soon, he replied, “I think now going!” This began a mad rush of plans to visit many of the holiest Buddhist sites in India and Nepal—tracing significant events in the Buddha’s life in India and Guru Rinpoche’s holy sites in Nepal. About a week later Rinpoche and a dozen students landed in India.
To Rinpoche, “pilgrimage” is a verb, a manifestation of his ceaseless activity and intention to create merit and benefit for others. I had little understanding of pilgrimage, but I knew that it has always been very important to Rinpoche, and so I wanted to join him and see what it was all about. I was unable to go to India but met him and his entourage later in Kathmandu.
I had been to India and could easily imagine the hardships of the pilgrimage—day after day of travel on hot and rugged roads, poor food, and everywhere the din and chaos of a billion people sharing a small “subcontinent.” When I met his flight from Delhi at the Kathmandu airport, I expected to find Rinpoche worn and in poor health. I should have known better—Rinpoche was glowing, vibrant, and energized.
Rinpoche stayed at a hotel across the street from the Great Stupa. The stupa, about a block square and surrounded by shops, is a kind of Times Square— but much, much older, with very different mantras and a greater presence—although sometimes equally distracting. Each morning before dawn we climbed to the roof of the hotel to greet the morning with Rinpoche, doing puja as the pink dawn caressed the Stupa and the Himalayas behind him. Word swiftly spread of Rinpoche’s presence and our small group grew larger. The hotel quickly became “Chagdud Gonpa– Boudha” as Rinpoche settled in with a swirl of activity.
Pilgrimage is a continuous offering, and our main activity in Boudha was to offer butter lamps each evening. Every day a dozen vendors prepared and laid out about ten thousand small lamps. As darkness fell, pilgrims, tourists, kids, and the Tibetan community of Boudha came up onto the Stupa to light them. We continuously recited a butter lamp prayer, offering a total of over 110,000 butterlamps at the Great Stupa (as many as had been offered earlier by Rinpoche at Bodhgaya in India).
One day Rinpoche asked if any of us had done prostrations around the Stupa. Nobody had. He announced that if we didn’t then he would (as he had done in Bodhgaya). The next morning found us up early and on the ground. The strong presence of the Stupa and the warm and friendly mass of folks doing circumambulations, the constant hum of mantras, the clicking prayer wheels, and the shuffling of feet made prostrations easy. As I worked my way slowly around, my attitude shifted from caution and reluctance to enthusiastic offering and joy.
Sacred to Guru Rinpoche, the Kathmandu Valley is dotted with gonpas, and for two days we visited monasteries around Boudha, offering butter lamps at each. Some of the older monasteries have a profound presence, but I have to say I was most excited by the new and very beautiful Katok Gonpa, still under construction, and by our visit with Moktza Rinpoche. Ka-tok Monastery is very closely linked with Chagdud Gonpa in Tibet, so it was a great treat to meet Moktza Rinpoche, who joined us in offering tsok at the Stupa on Guru Rinpoche Day.
We also visited Nagi Gonpa, Chökyi Nyima’s monastery, where we were warmly greeted with tea and cookies. As he and Rinpoche talked, we could sense Chökyi Nyima’s great respect and appreciation for Rinpoche, who was a friend of Chökyi Nyima’s father, Tulku Orgyen Rinpoche. We felt very honored when he brought out some relics of Tulku Orgyen. As we received their blessings, Chökyi Nyima reminded us what a treasure our Rinpoche is, one of the few remaining lamas trained in Tibet. He and Rinpoche parted at the gates of Nagi Gonpa with a strong embrace.
Shechen Monastery, known locally as Khyentse Gonpa, was built by H.H. Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche before he died. Khyentse Rinpoche was one of Chagdud Rinpoche’s main teachers. We were invited up many flights of stairs to Khyentse Rinpoche’s private chambers at the top of the temple. His oceanic presence was still overwhelming, and to be there with Rinpoche was tender and profound beyond words.
At Parping we performed tsok outside the Asura Cave, where Guru Rinpoche took monastic ordination and left his handprint in stone outside the door. In response to their requests, Rinpoche gave refuge vows to the kids on the pilgrimage. We also visited Chatral Rinpoche’s gonpa and Yangleshod Cave, where Guru Rinpoche bound the Vajrakilaya protectors to an oath of allegiance and requested that they protect the dharma.
In some remote mountains far from Kathmandu are the Maratika Caves, where Guru Rinpoche and Mandarava attained the siddhis of longevity and deathlessness. The trip is arduous—either a six-day hike or a long ride on a helicopter. We chose the ’copters, and I thought that somehow I was getting off easy with a ride through the air and then a day in a cave with Rinpoche. What a surprise when our ’copter circled above a huge crowd of people and landed in their midst! We were suddenly plunged, Indiana Jones style, into a cauldron of humanity.
The local Hindus, who also hold the caves as a power spot, were in the midst of two days of fervent prayers and offerings. Although many of the people there were friendly, or at least curious, some gave us hostile stares.
Within the caves are a series of very narrow tunnels, which pilgrims attempt to crawl through in order to purify their karma for rebirth in lower realms. As we inched our way through the tunnels—frightening in themselves—surrounded by the din of the Hindu pilgrims, we were scarcely able to hear one another, and were often confused and isolated from our group. I felt that this was how one might experience death—alone and plunged into fear and confusion.
Although Rinpoche stayed behind at a monastery near the caves, his presence never left us. I felt tremendous gratitude for this, and compassion for the thousands of other pilgrims who might not have such a teacher to guide them. When I got back to the monastery, Rinpoche was turned, looking peacefully out the window, waiting for each one of us to return. I performed grateful prostrations, as we all did, naturally, upon seeing him again.
We spent our final days in that other dharma activity—shopping! While an endless stream of Tibetan students and friends kept Rinpoche busy at his hotel, we all dispersed to the markets to buy dharma items for our centers, friends, and shrine rooms Then one day it was over. From the airport, we fanned out again to far corners of the globe, but without separation, to continue our offerings and to share the blessings of our journey with Rinpoche.
John Swearingen is a longtime student of Chagdud Rinpoche who has lent his construction skills to a number Chagdud Gonpa building projects. He is also a talented photographer whose work has appeared, unacknowledged, in the Windhorse for many years. As an extension of his dharma activity he builds custom straw-bale homes throughout California.
by John Swearingen
One morning at Rigdzin Ling Rinpoche said he thought it would be a good idea to go on pilgrimage again. When he was asked how soon, he replied, “I think now going!” This began a mad rush of plans to visit many of the holiest Buddhist sites in India and Nepal—tracing significant events in the Buddha’s life in India and Guru Rinpoche’s holy sites in Nepal. About a week later Rinpoche and a dozen students landed in India.
To Rinpoche, “pilgrimage” is a verb, a manifestation of his ceaseless activity and intention to create merit and benefit for others. I had little understanding of pilgrimage, but I knew that it has always been very important to Rinpoche, and so I wanted to join him and see what it was all about. I was unable to go to India but met him and his entourage later in Kathmandu.
I had been to India and could easily imagine the hardships of the pilgrimage—day after day of travel on hot and rugged roads, poor food, and everywhere the din and chaos of a billion people sharing a small “subcontinent.” When I met his flight from Delhi at the Kathmandu airport, I expected to find Rinpoche worn and in poor health. I should have known better—Rinpoche was glowing, vibrant, and energized.
Rinpoche stayed at a hotel across the street from the Great Stupa. The stupa, about a block square and surrounded by shops, is a kind of Times Square— but much, much older, with very different mantras and a greater presence—although sometimes equally distracting. Each morning before dawn we climbed to the roof of the hotel to greet the morning with Rinpoche, doing puja as the pink dawn caressed the Stupa and the Himalayas behind him. Word swiftly spread of Rinpoche’s presence and our small group grew larger. The hotel quickly became “Chagdud Gonpa– Boudha” as Rinpoche settled in with a swirl of activity.
Pilgrimage is a continuous offering, and our main activity in Boudha was to offer butter lamps each evening. Every day a dozen vendors prepared and laid out about ten thousand small lamps. As darkness fell, pilgrims, tourists, kids, and the Tibetan community of Boudha came up onto the Stupa to light them. We continuously recited a butter lamp prayer, offering a total of over 110,000 butterlamps at the Great Stupa (as many as had been offered earlier by Rinpoche at Bodhgaya in India).
One day Rinpoche asked if any of us had done prostrations around the Stupa. Nobody had. He announced that if we didn’t then he would (as he had done in Bodhgaya). The next morning found us up early and on the ground. The strong presence of the Stupa and the warm and friendly mass of folks doing circumambulations, the constant hum of mantras, the clicking prayer wheels, and the shuffling of feet made prostrations easy. As I worked my way slowly around, my attitude shifted from caution and reluctance to enthusiastic offering and joy.
Sacred to Guru Rinpoche, the Kathmandu Valley is dotted with gonpas, and for two days we visited monasteries around Boudha, offering butter lamps at each. Some of the older monasteries have a profound presence, but I have to say I was most excited by the new and very beautiful Katok Gonpa, still under construction, and by our visit with Moktza Rinpoche. Ka-tok Monastery is very closely linked with Chagdud Gonpa in Tibet, so it was a great treat to meet Moktza Rinpoche, who joined us in offering tsok at the Stupa on Guru Rinpoche Day.
We also visited Nagi Gonpa, Chökyi Nyima’s monastery, where we were warmly greeted with tea and cookies. As he and Rinpoche talked, we could sense Chökyi Nyima’s great respect and appreciation for Rinpoche, who was a friend of Chökyi Nyima’s father, Tulku Orgyen Rinpoche. We felt very honored when he brought out some relics of Tulku Orgyen. As we received their blessings, Chökyi Nyima reminded us what a treasure our Rinpoche is, one of the few remaining lamas trained in Tibet. He and Rinpoche parted at the gates of Nagi Gonpa with a strong embrace.
Shechen Monastery, known locally as Khyentse Gonpa, was built by H.H. Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche before he died. Khyentse Rinpoche was one of Chagdud Rinpoche’s main teachers. We were invited up many flights of stairs to Khyentse Rinpoche’s private chambers at the top of the temple. His oceanic presence was still overwhelming, and to be there with Rinpoche was tender and profound beyond words.
At Parping we performed tsok outside the Asura Cave, where Guru Rinpoche took monastic ordination and left his handprint in stone outside the door. In response to their requests, Rinpoche gave refuge vows to the kids on the pilgrimage. We also visited Chatral Rinpoche’s gonpa and Yangleshod Cave, where Guru Rinpoche bound the Vajrakilaya protectors to an oath of allegiance and requested that they protect the dharma.
In some remote mountains far from Kathmandu are the Maratika Caves, where Guru Rinpoche and Mandarava attained the siddhis of longevity and deathlessness. The trip is arduous—either a six-day hike or a long ride on a helicopter. We chose the ’copters, and I thought that somehow I was getting off easy with a ride through the air and then a day in a cave with Rinpoche. What a surprise when our ’copter circled above a huge crowd of people and landed in their midst! We were suddenly plunged, Indiana Jones style, into a cauldron of humanity.
The local Hindus, who also hold the caves as a power spot, were in the midst of two days of fervent prayers and offerings. Although many of the people there were friendly, or at least curious, some gave us hostile stares.
Within the caves are a series of very narrow tunnels, which pilgrims attempt to crawl through in order to purify their karma for rebirth in lower realms. As we inched our way through the tunnels—frightening in themselves—surrounded by the din of the Hindu pilgrims, we were scarcely able to hear one another, and were often confused and isolated from our group. I felt that this was how one might experience death—alone and plunged into fear and confusion.
Although Rinpoche stayed behind at a monastery near the caves, his presence never left us. I felt tremendous gratitude for this, and compassion for the thousands of other pilgrims who might not have such a teacher to guide them. When I got back to the monastery, Rinpoche was turned, looking peacefully out the window, waiting for each one of us to return. I performed grateful prostrations, as we all did, naturally, upon seeing him again.
We spent our final days in that other dharma activity—shopping! While an endless stream of Tibetan students and friends kept Rinpoche busy at his hotel, we all dispersed to the markets to buy dharma items for our centers, friends, and shrine rooms Then one day it was over. From the airport, we fanned out again to far corners of the globe, but without separation, to continue our offerings and to share the blessings of our journey with Rinpoche.
John Swearingen is a longtime student of Chagdud Rinpoche who has lent his construction skills to a number Chagdud Gonpa building projects. He is also a talented photographer whose work has appeared, unacknowledged, in the Windhorse for many years. As an extension of his dharma activity he builds custom straw-bale homes throughout California.
by John Swearingen
One morning at Rigdzin Ling Rinpoche said he thought it would be a good idea to go on pilgrimage again. When he was asked how soon, he replied, “I think now going!” This began a mad rush of plans to visit many of the holiest Buddhist sites in India and Nepal—tracing significant events in the Buddha’s life in India and Guru Rinpoche’s holy sites in Nepal. About a week later Rinpoche and a dozen students landed in India.
To Rinpoche, “pilgrimage” is a verb, a manifestation of his ceaseless activity and intention to create merit and benefit for others. I had little understanding of pilgrimage, but I knew that it has always been very important to Rinpoche, and so I wanted to join him and see what it was all about. I was unable to go to India but met him and his entourage later in Kathmandu.
I had been to India and could easily imagine the hardships of the pilgrimage—day after day of travel on hot and rugged roads, poor food, and everywhere the din and chaos of a billion people sharing a small “subcontinent.” When I met his flight from Delhi at the Kathmandu airport, I expected to find Rinpoche worn and in poor health. I should have known better—Rinpoche was glowing, vibrant, and energized.
Rinpoche stayed at a hotel across the street from the Great Stupa. The stupa, about a block square and surrounded by shops, is a kind of Times Square— but much, much older, with very different mantras and a greater presence—although sometimes equally distracting. Each morning before dawn we climbed to the roof of the hotel to greet the morning with Rinpoche, doing puja as the pink dawn caressed the Stupa and the Himalayas behind him. Word swiftly spread of Rinpoche’s presence and our small group grew larger. The hotel quickly became “Chagdud Gonpa– Boudha” as Rinpoche settled in with a swirl of activity.
Pilgrimage is a continuous offering, and our main activity in Boudha was to offer butter lamps each evening. Every day a dozen vendors prepared and laid out about ten thousand small lamps. As darkness fell, pilgrims, tourists, kids, and the Tibetan community of Boudha came up onto the Stupa to light them. We continuously recited a butter lamp prayer, offering a total of over 110,000 butterlamps at the Great Stupa (as many as had been offered earlier by Rinpoche at Bodhgaya in India).
One day Rinpoche asked if any of us had done prostrations around the Stupa. Nobody had. He announced that if we didn’t then he would (as he had done in Bodhgaya). The next morning found us up early and on the ground. The strong presence of the Stupa and the warm and friendly mass of folks doing circumambulations, the constant hum of mantras, the clicking prayer wheels, and the shuffling of feet made prostrations easy. As I worked my way slowly around, my attitude shifted from caution and reluctance to enthusiastic offering and joy.
Sacred to Guru Rinpoche, the Kathmandu Valley is dotted with gonpas, and for two days we visited monasteries around Boudha, offering butter lamps at each. Some of the older monasteries have a profound presence, but I have to say I was most excited by the new and very beautiful Katok Gonpa, still under construction, and by our visit with Moktza Rinpoche. Ka-tok Monastery is very closely linked with Chagdud Gonpa in Tibet, so it was a great treat to meet Moktza Rinpoche, who joined us in offering tsok at the Stupa on Guru Rinpoche Day.
We also visited Nagi Gonpa, Chökyi Nyima’s monastery, where we were warmly greeted with tea and cookies. As he and Rinpoche talked, we could sense Chökyi Nyima’s great respect and appreciation for Rinpoche, who was a friend of Chökyi Nyima’s father, Tulku Orgyen Rinpoche. We felt very honored when he brought out some relics of Tulku Orgyen. As we received their blessings, Chökyi Nyima reminded us what a treasure our Rinpoche is, one of the few remaining lamas trained in Tibet. He and Rinpoche parted at the gates of Nagi Gonpa with a strong embrace.
Shechen Monastery, known locally as Khyentse Gonpa, was built by H.H. Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche before he died. Khyentse Rinpoche was one of Chagdud Rinpoche’s main teachers. We were invited up many flights of stairs to Khyentse Rinpoche’s private chambers at the top of the temple. His oceanic presence was still overwhelming, and to be there with Rinpoche was tender and profound beyond words.
At Parping we performed tsok outside the Asura Cave, where Guru Rinpoche took monastic ordination and left his handprint in stone outside the door. In response to their requests, Rinpoche gave refuge vows to the kids on the pilgrimage. We also visited Chatral Rinpoche’s gonpa and Yangleshod Cave, where Guru Rinpoche bound the Vajrakilaya protectors to an oath of allegiance and requested that they protect the dharma.
In some remote mountains far from Kathmandu are the Maratika Caves, where Guru Rinpoche and Mandarava attained the siddhis of longevity and deathlessness. The trip is arduous—either a six-day hike or a long ride on a helicopter. We chose the ’copters, and I thought that somehow I was getting off easy with a ride through the air and then a day in a cave with Rinpoche. What a surprise when our ’copter circled above a huge crowd of people and landed in their midst! We were suddenly plunged, Indiana Jones style, into a cauldron of humanity.
The local Hindus, who also hold the caves as a power spot, were in the midst of two days of fervent prayers and offerings. Although many of the people there were friendly, or at least curious, some gave us hostile stares.
Within the caves are a series of very narrow tunnels, which pilgrims attempt to crawl through in order to purify their karma for rebirth in lower realms. As we inched our way through the tunnels—frightening in themselves—surrounded by the din of the Hindu pilgrims, we were scarcely able to hear one another, and were often confused and isolated from our group. I felt that this was how one might experience death—alone and plunged into fear and confusion.
Although Rinpoche stayed behind at a monastery near the caves, his presence never left us. I felt tremendous gratitude for this, and compassion for the thousands of other pilgrims who might not have such a teacher to guide them. When I got back to the monastery, Rinpoche was turned, looking peacefully out the window, waiting for each one of us to return. I performed grateful prostrations, as we all did, naturally, upon seeing him again.
We spent our final days in that other dharma activity—shopping! While an endless stream of Tibetan students and friends kept Rinpoche busy at his hotel, we all dispersed to the markets to buy dharma items for our centers, friends, and shrine rooms Then one day it was over. From the airport, we fanned out again to far corners of the globe, but without separation, to continue our offerings and to share the blessings of our journey with Rinpoche.
John Swearingen is a longtime student of Chagdud Rinpoche who has lent his construction skills to a number Chagdud Gonpa building projects. He is also a talented photographer whose work has appeared, unacknowledged, in the Windhorse for many years. As an extension of his dharma activity he builds custom straw-bale homes throughout California.
by John Swearingen
One morning at Rigdzin Ling Rinpoche said he thought it would be a good idea to go on pilgrimage again. When he was asked how soon, he replied, “I think now going!” This began a mad rush of plans to visit many of the holiest Buddhist sites in India and Nepal—tracing significant events in the Buddha’s life in India and Guru Rinpoche’s holy sites in Nepal. About a week later Rinpoche and a dozen students landed in India.
To Rinpoche, “pilgrimage” is a verb, a manifestation of his ceaseless activity and intention to create merit and benefit for others. I had little understanding of pilgrimage, but I knew that it has always been very important to Rinpoche, and so I wanted to join him and see what it was all about. I was unable to go to India but met him and his entourage later in Kathmandu.
I had been to India and could easily imagine the hardships of the pilgrimage—day after day of travel on hot and rugged roads, poor food, and everywhere the din and chaos of a billion people sharing a small “subcontinent.” When I met his flight from Delhi at the Kathmandu airport, I expected to find Rinpoche worn and in poor health. I should have known better—Rinpoche was glowing, vibrant, and energized.
Rinpoche stayed at a hotel across the street from the Great Stupa. The stupa, about a block square and surrounded by shops, is a kind of Times Square— but much, much older, with very different mantras and a greater presence—although sometimes equally distracting. Each morning before dawn we climbed to the roof of the hotel to greet the morning with Rinpoche, doing puja as the pink dawn caressed the Stupa and the Himalayas behind him. Word swiftly spread of Rinpoche’s presence and our small group grew larger. The hotel quickly became “Chagdud Gonpa– Boudha” as Rinpoche settled in with a swirl of activity.
Pilgrimage is a continuous offering, and our main activity in Boudha was to offer butter lamps each evening. Every day a dozen vendors prepared and laid out about ten thousand small lamps. As darkness fell, pilgrims, tourists, kids, and the Tibetan community of Boudha came up onto the Stupa to light them. We continuously recited a butter lamp prayer, offering a total of over 110,000 butterlamps at the Great Stupa (as many as had been offered earlier by Rinpoche at Bodhgaya in India).
One day Rinpoche asked if any of us had done prostrations around the Stupa. Nobody had. He announced that if we didn’t then he would (as he had done in Bodhgaya). The next morning found us up early and on the ground. The strong presence of the Stupa and the warm and friendly mass of folks doing circumambulations, the constant hum of mantras, the clicking prayer wheels, and the shuffling of feet made prostrations easy. As I worked my way slowly around, my attitude shifted from caution and reluctance to enthusiastic offering and joy.
Sacred to Guru Rinpoche, the Kathmandu Valley is dotted with gonpas, and for two days we visited monasteries around Boudha, offering butter lamps at each. Some of the older monasteries have a profound presence, but I have to say I was most excited by the new and very beautiful Katok Gonpa, still under construction, and by our visit with Moktza Rinpoche. Ka-tok Monastery is very closely linked with Chagdud Gonpa in Tibet, so it was a great treat to meet Moktza Rinpoche, who joined us in offering tsok at the Stupa on Guru Rinpoche Day.
We also visited Nagi Gonpa, Chökyi Nyima’s monastery, where we were warmly greeted with tea and cookies. As he and Rinpoche talked, we could sense Chökyi Nyima’s great respect and appreciation for Rinpoche, who was a friend of Chökyi Nyima’s father, Tulku Orgyen Rinpoche. We felt very honored when he brought out some relics of Tulku Orgyen. As we received their blessings, Chökyi Nyima reminded us what a treasure our Rinpoche is, one of the few remaining lamas trained in Tibet. He and Rinpoche parted at the gates of Nagi Gonpa with a strong embrace.
Shechen Monastery, known locally as Khyentse Gonpa, was built by H.H. Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche before he died. Khyentse Rinpoche was one of Chagdud Rinpoche’s main teachers. We were invited up many flights of stairs to Khyentse Rinpoche’s private chambers at the top of the temple. His oceanic presence was still overwhelming, and to be there with Rinpoche was tender and profound beyond words.
At Parping we performed tsok outside the Asura Cave, where Guru Rinpoche took monastic ordination and left his handprint in stone outside the door. In response to their requests, Rinpoche gave refuge vows to the kids on the pilgrimage. We also visited Chatral Rinpoche’s gonpa and Yangleshod Cave, where Guru Rinpoche bound the Vajrakilaya protectors to an oath of allegiance and requested that they protect the dharma.
In some remote mountains far from Kathmandu are the Maratika Caves, where Guru Rinpoche and Mandarava attained the siddhis of longevity and deathlessness. The trip is arduous—either a six-day hike or a long ride on a helicopter. We chose the ’copters, and I thought that somehow I was getting off easy with a ride through the air and then a day in a cave with Rinpoche. What a surprise when our ’copter circled above a huge crowd of people and landed in their midst! We were suddenly plunged, Indiana Jones style, into a cauldron of humanity.
The local Hindus, who also hold the caves as a power spot, were in the midst of two days of fervent prayers and offerings. Although many of the people there were friendly, or at least curious, some gave us hostile stares.
Within the caves are a series of very narrow tunnels, which pilgrims attempt to crawl through in order to purify their karma for rebirth in lower realms. As we inched our way through the tunnels—frightening in themselves—surrounded by the din of the Hindu pilgrims, we were scarcely able to hear one another, and were often confused and isolated from our group. I felt that this was how one might experience death—alone and plunged into fear and confusion.
Although Rinpoche stayed behind at a monastery near the caves, his presence never left us. I felt tremendous gratitude for this, and compassion for the thousands of other pilgrims who might not have such a teacher to guide them. When I got back to the monastery, Rinpoche was turned, looking peacefully out the window, waiting for each one of us to return. I performed grateful prostrations, as we all did, naturally, upon seeing him again.
We spent our final days in that other dharma activity—shopping! While an endless stream of Tibetan students and friends kept Rinpoche busy at his hotel, we all dispersed to the markets to buy dharma items for our centers, friends, and shrine rooms Then one day it was over. From the airport, we fanned out again to far corners of the globe, but without separation, to continue our offerings and to share the blessings of our journey with Rinpoche.
John Swearingen is a longtime student of Chagdud Rinpoche who has lent his construction skills to a number Chagdud Gonpa building projects. He is also a talented photographer whose work has appeared, unacknowledged, in the Windhorse for many years. As an extension of his dharma activity he builds custom straw-bale homes throughout California.
by John Swearingen
One morning at Rigdzin Ling Rinpoche said he thought it would be a good idea to go on pilgrimage again. When he was asked how soon, he replied, “I think now going!” This began a mad rush of plans to visit many of the holiest Buddhist sites in India and Nepal—tracing significant events in the Buddha’s life in India and Guru Rinpoche’s holy sites in Nepal. About a week later Rinpoche and a dozen students landed in India.
To Rinpoche, “pilgrimage” is a verb, a manifestation of his ceaseless activity and intention to create merit and benefit for others. I had little understanding of pilgrimage, but I knew that it has always been very important to Rinpoche, and so I wanted to join him and see what it was all about. I was unable to go to India but met him and his entourage later in Kathmandu.
I had been to India and could easily imagine the hardships of the pilgrimage—day after day of travel on hot and rugged roads, poor food, and everywhere the din and chaos of a billion people sharing a small “subcontinent.” When I met his flight from Delhi at the Kathmandu airport, I expected to find Rinpoche worn and in poor health. I should have known better—Rinpoche was glowing, vibrant, and energized.
Rinpoche stayed at a hotel across the street from the Great Stupa. The stupa, about a block square and surrounded by shops, is a kind of Times Square— but much, much older, with very different mantras and a greater presence—although sometimes equally distracting. Each morning before dawn we climbed to the roof of the hotel to greet the morning with Rinpoche, doing puja as the pink dawn caressed the Stupa and the Himalayas behind him. Word swiftly spread of Rinpoche’s presence and our small group grew larger. The hotel quickly became “Chagdud Gonpa– Boudha” as Rinpoche settled in with a swirl of activity.
Pilgrimage is a continuous offering, and our main activity in Boudha was to offer butter lamps each evening. Every day a dozen vendors prepared and laid out about ten thousand small lamps. As darkness fell, pilgrims, tourists, kids, and the Tibetan community of Boudha came up onto the Stupa to light them. We continuously recited a butter lamp prayer, offering a total of over 110,000 butterlamps at the Great Stupa (as many as had been offered earlier by Rinpoche at Bodhgaya in India).
One day Rinpoche asked if any of us had done prostrations around the Stupa. Nobody had. He announced that if we didn’t then he would (as he had done in Bodhgaya). The next morning found us up early and on the ground. The strong presence of the Stupa and the warm and friendly mass of folks doing circumambulations, the constant hum of mantras, the clicking prayer wheels, and the shuffling of feet made prostrations easy. As I worked my way slowly around, my attitude shifted from caution and reluctance to enthusiastic offering and joy.
Sacred to Guru Rinpoche, the Kathmandu Valley is dotted with gonpas, and for two days we visited monasteries around Boudha, offering butter lamps at each. Some of the older monasteries have a profound presence, but I have to say I was most excited by the new and very beautiful Katok Gonpa, still under construction, and by our visit with Moktza Rinpoche. Ka-tok Monastery is very closely linked with Chagdud Gonpa in Tibet, so it was a great treat to meet Moktza Rinpoche, who joined us in offering tsok at the Stupa on Guru Rinpoche Day.
We also visited Nagi Gonpa, Chökyi Nyima’s monastery, where we were warmly greeted with tea and cookies. As he and Rinpoche talked, we could sense Chökyi Nyima’s great respect and appreciation for Rinpoche, who was a friend of Chökyi Nyima’s father, Tulku Orgyen Rinpoche. We felt very honored when he brought out some relics of Tulku Orgyen. As we received their blessings, Chökyi Nyima reminded us what a treasure our Rinpoche is, one of the few remaining lamas trained in Tibet. He and Rinpoche parted at the gates of Nagi Gonpa with a strong embrace.
Shechen Monastery, known locally as Khyentse Gonpa, was built by H.H. Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche before he died. Khyentse Rinpoche was one of Chagdud Rinpoche’s main teachers. We were invited up many flights of stairs to Khyentse Rinpoche’s private chambers at the top of the temple. His oceanic presence was still overwhelming, and to be there with Rinpoche was tender and profound beyond words.
At Parping we performed tsok outside the Asura Cave, where Guru Rinpoche took monastic ordination and left his handprint in stone outside the door. In response to their requests, Rinpoche gave refuge vows to the kids on the pilgrimage. We also visited Chatral Rinpoche’s gonpa and Yangleshod Cave, where Guru Rinpoche bound the Vajrakilaya protectors to an oath of allegiance and requested that they protect the dharma.
In some remote mountains far from Kathmandu are the Maratika Caves, where Guru Rinpoche and Mandarava attained the siddhis of longevity and deathlessness. The trip is arduous—either a six-day hike or a long ride on a helicopter. We chose the ’copters, and I thought that somehow I was getting off easy with a ride through the air and then a day in a cave with Rinpoche. What a surprise when our ’copter circled above a huge crowd of people and landed in their midst! We were suddenly plunged, Indiana Jones style, into a cauldron of humanity.
The local Hindus, who also hold the caves as a power spot, were in the midst of two days of fervent prayers and offerings. Although many of the people there were friendly, or at least curious, some gave us hostile stares.
Within the caves are a series of very narrow tunnels, which pilgrims attempt to crawl through in order to purify their karma for rebirth in lower realms. As we inched our way through the tunnels—frightening in themselves—surrounded by the din of the Hindu pilgrims, we were scarcely able to hear one another, and were often confused and isolated from our group. I felt that this was how one might experience death—alone and plunged into fear and confusion.
Although Rinpoche stayed behind at a monastery near the caves, his presence never left us. I felt tremendous gratitude for this, and compassion for the thousands of other pilgrims who might not have such a teacher to guide them. When I got back to the monastery, Rinpoche was turned, looking peacefully out the window, waiting for each one of us to return. I performed grateful prostrations, as we all did, naturally, upon seeing him again.
We spent our final days in that other dharma activity—shopping! While an endless stream of Tibetan students and friends kept Rinpoche busy at his hotel, we all dispersed to the markets to buy dharma items for our centers, friends, and shrine rooms Then one day it was over. From the airport, we fanned out again to far corners of the globe, but without separation, to continue our offerings and to share the blessings of our journey with Rinpoche.
John Swearingen is a longtime student of Chagdud Rinpoche who has lent his construction skills to a number Chagdud Gonpa building projects. He is also a talented photographer whose work has appeared, unacknowledged, in the Windhorse for many years. As an extension of his dharma activity he builds custom straw-bale homes throughout California.
