Sunday, we had the second of four meditation workshops here in Ulaanbaatar, based on the Mongolian translation of a volume that you know I’ve really come to love, Jetsunma Ahkon Lhamo’s Stabilizing the Mind: A Meditative Technique to Develop Spaciousness in the Mind. About 30 people came, which is not bad for a Sunday morning. Days off for Mongols are usually family time.
A woman I’d seen before and a friend of hers came a bit early. In tow were two girls, maybe 11, the daughter of one of the women and, judging by their nearly identical outfits, her very best friend. To my surprise and delight, once they settled in, the two girls got up and, side-by-side, started to accumulate perfect full-length prostrations to the altar for about 15 minutes. This is a wonderful technique for undercutting pride, purifying negative karma of the body, and generating wonderful good karma for the future. In fact, in the preliminary practices of our highest teachings, we do 100,000 of 'em. I couldn’t help but snap a couple of pictures:


The only jangly note was that their outfits replicated that most heinous of ‘tween fashion trends, sweat pants with words arced across the rear end. You can’t really make it out, but on the pants of the girl to the right, it declares in big letters: TEMPLE. The semiotic complexity of all that nearly made my head explode, and I just pinched my eyes and shook with laughter, provoking concern-for-my-mental-welfare scowls all around.
Anyway, I gave a short teaching first, based on Jetsunma’s explanations on how to disengage from the conceptual mind during meditation. The spaciousness one cultivates thereby allows for better control over one’s actions, to leave aside negative ones, tempting as they may be, and choose positive ones. To emphasize the importance of this point, I pulled in a neat fact from the collection of the Buddha’s teaching known as the Abhidharma. The Buddha said that karma was not at all a simple matter. In his enlightened view, he saw that in the length of time it takes for one to snap one’s fingers, 65 karmic impressions are made on the mindstream. They’re planted there like seeds ready to grow, and this process continues uninterrupted until liberation is attained. I could tell that that little nugget got everyone’s attention, as it had mine when I first heard it.
So after our meditation session and the Q&A wrapped up, one of the girls shyly approached me. Through my translator, she asked, “You know those 65 seeds-per-fingersnap you talked about? How can I make sure they’re positive and not negative?” Wow. I can’t tell you the impact the innocence and purity of that question made on me that morning. I had to fight back tears as I asked everyone to sit back down for a moment. I asked the translator to repeat the question, then I told them that this young girl just asked the single best question anyone had asked me in my three years in Mongolia, and perhaps in my 15 years as a monk.
Bodhicitta, I said. Bodhicitta, the exquisitely profound, compassionate wish and activity to attain enlightenment solely to have the means to eliminate the suffering of all other sentient beings by guiding them to enlightenment. If that is what's burning in your heart, then every thought and word and action is not only positive in an ordinary sense, but brings one closer to the perfect enlightened state. I elaborated just a little, reminding them that this was the subject of our Thursday night teachings. Then I summed it up in a simple sentence my teacher spoke once, and I’ve never forgotten: “Love is never wrong.” I asked the girl if she could remember that. She said yes. I hoped everyone else would too, and I felt a moment of real benefit had occured.
As icing on that particular cake, another woman named Enkhtsetseg (“Peaceful Flower”) came to talk to me after everyone had left. She was there for the first time and told me she was from the northern province of Khentii. She was attracted to our advertising banner outside the temple because she, too, was a follower of the “red tradition”. Oh really? And who was her teacher? Well, she said, that’s the part she thought might interest me. Her teacher was a woman just known to locals as “Amaa”. She was currently 104-years old.
Um, interests me. In fact, has my full attention. Please go on.
She said Amaa had never married nor had children – quite unusual – and had been practicing in the traditions of Padmasambhava since she was eight.
OK, hang on...carry the three...you mean she’s been doing these practices for 96 years? Since 10 years before Mongolia’s Communist Revolution? Twenty-six years before the worst of the religious purges?
That’s right.
Has anyone ever recorded her history?
I don’t think so.
Ah. Can I meet her very soon?
In fact, my Peaceful Flower told me, I could. Amaa – who’s in good health, mentally and physically – would be coming to UB on May 17. And then, there was going to be a special prayer ceremony for a few days in early June at the place in Khentii she used to be associated with, called the Land of 1000 Dakinis. Would I be interested in coming up for that?
Oh, no thanks, I think I have to clip my nails. Are you kidding me? Guess who’s heading north in June. Stay tuned for all the details.
{Get the title reference? C’mon, gitcher cultcher, y’all. Art Ensemble of Chicago!}
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