Vairocana

December 24, 2014March 25, 2014 by Jetsunma Ahkon Lhamo

The following is an excerpt from a teaching by Jetsunma Ahkon Lhamo offered during a Phowa retreat:

On the first day, it is Vairochana Buddha that will appear. He either manifests in the form of a Buddha, according to our beliefs, should we have the capacity to recognize, or he will manifest in the form of dazzling blue lights and geometric shapes. These dazzling blue lights are just that—they are dazzling. They are unlike anything we have ever seen on the physical level. They will knock you for a loop. Literally knock you for a loop. It will be unlike anything you have ever seen. The ultimate light show, friends. And it will be different than you have ever seen it. So one needs to practice in order to be able to recognize the nature that is Vairochana Buddha.

At the same time that this almost violent, dazzling, ultra-dazzling blue light will appear, another softer white light will appear. The softer and white light will be more welcoming, but this softer white light corresponds to the world of the gods. Do not follow. Go to that light which is dazzling, perhaps more unfamiliar, perhaps more frightening. Call out to the Buddha. Try not to take the easiest way out, but ask yourself, require yourself to recognize the Buddha. If the person seeing this has no idea of what is happening, the sheer brightness of the light of the Buddha is somehow terrifying. If they haven’t practiced, you see, they are unused to it, so it is terrifying; and one will be more inclined to follow the light of the worlds of the gods, as it is soft and pleasing. So beware of that.

Here are the two correct attitudes, according to this lama, that are very helpful to adopt in order to face the situation. The first one consists of becoming conscious that the blinding blue light manifests the presence of Vairochana Buddha. So we pray every day from now until the time of our death, and especially around the time of our death, that he will dispel the suffering and phenomena of the bardo. And particularly when we see him, when we see this very bright blue light or when we recognize that the Buddha is present, we pray to him and ask him to dispel the delusion and make the way clear for us. The second method requires more profound knowledge than the first one. The first one, you only have to have heard; literally, you now have enough to do that. You have heard, and through the force of your caring about this hearing and wanting to internalize it, it is that force that will make you remember that you have heard that Vairochana will appear at this time. Now you know that. You are expecting to be in the bardo; you are expecting to see light that you are uncomfortable with. You are expecting to see things you do not recognize or feel familiar with, and you will know not to be afraid. That’s the first way, you see.

The second way requires more knowledge than the first way, and it involves recognizing that the light which appears that is Vairochana has no external existence separate from oneself. That it is the manifestation of one of the five Buddhas present within our own mind. And he says here that, “Their manifested aspects are externally expressed, but in truth their light has no intrinsic external existence.” This blue is actually the luminosity of our own minds; yet we cannot recognize it because we have not become familiar with our own minds. And so the second method, in order to get through this particular aspect of the bardo, is to recognize that this has no inherent existence outside of ourselves. That this is, in fact, a display of our own inherent Buddha nature, and in that way, to become familiar with it and non-dual. Remaining fully aware that the light and the mind are one will free us from the suffering of the bardo. On the other hand, if we are enticed by the white light of the god realm, we will be seduced to be reborn as a long life god—the god that lives a long time and smells good and looks good, feels good, but then eventually, pffft., A bad end to that vacation. So we do not wish to be reborn in the god realm. Do not go for instant gratification in this case. Trust me on this one.

The Causes of This Present State

March 9, 2014 by Jetsunma Ahkon Lhamo

There are some cause and effect relationships that we become acquainted with. Especially if, as I’m sure all of you are, you are engaged in watchfulness in your life. And really wanting to progress spiritually in some way, your capacity for learning is that much greater. We may learn that if we’re really kind and loving to others, we get better result. We may learn that if we’re generous, people are generous to us. We may learn that if we’re really hateful and arrogant, we never really get anything good out of that. We may learn some lessons like that. And if that’s the case, those are all precious and valuable lessons to learn.

However, there are lots of things that we don’t learn. The reason why is that, for one thing, we really don’t fully understand how it is that we came into this life under the conditions that we have. We don’t understand how it was that we were born to the families that we were born to, or how it was that we arrived in the condition that we arrived in. How it is that we arrived at our genetic structure? How it is that we arrived with certain mental, physical and emotional propensities? Certain habitual tendencies? Why is it that they have arisen so strongly within us? And it seems as though other people, even in the same family, do not have the same habitual tendencies. We don’t have a full and complete understanding. And the reason why is because we cannot really understand the conditions that have occurred previous to this lifetime. We don’t have an understanding of that. We cannot actually view the cause and effect relationships that brought us to this present state.

Another thing is that we don’t often understand the outcome of causes that we ourselves have begun during the course of this lifetime. For instance, we may be able to see very simple kinds of cause and effect realities. Like if you walk up and punch somebody in the nose who’s approximately the same size as you, there’s a real good chance he or she is going to punch back. And you might learn some cause and effect reality by trying that. But, on the other hand, you might not learn that if you sit there and instead of punching the person who is not your favorite person, you sit there and think hateful thoughts, thoughts of wishing to do harm, thoughts of condemnation and judgment. You may think that having those thoughts, just because you haven’t said them, just because you haven’t acted on them, just because you haven’t punched, is somehow ok. That having those thoughts is secret, that no one knows about them. And that it’s really all right to think like that because you won’t see it play itself out. And even if it does play itself out during the course of that lifetime, perhaps the person that you have these thoughts toward is at some time in the future, maybe even just a couple of weeks from that time, strongly hateful toward you. You may not understand the connection. You may not see what has happened. Certainly you will not see if that cause and effect relationship ripens in some future life because you won’t remember that you just got what you deserved. You won’t remember that you had the same thoughts about that person.

The Challenge of Limited Perception

December 16, 2014February 16, 2014 by Jetsunma Ahkon Lhamo

The following is an excerpt from a teaching by Jetsunma Ahkon Lhamo offered during a Phowa retreat:

Now you have to examine yourself, and you have to ask yourself: What are your habit patterns? If it has been your habit that you have not finished tasks, then you have to train yourself in a way that you have never trained yourself before. If it has been your habit that you have thought of yourself as inept, incompetent, not worthy, and a failure, and you think that probably you will begin this but you will not be able to finish it, you will not be able to succeed at it… You have the idea that you’re not going to go all the way with it, and you could feel yourself slip-sliding away… You could feel yourself kind of going in a direction that you mentally have the habit of going in, but one that is not productive to you and will absolutely lead to the end of this situation that you find yourself in. Then, of course, you will have to train yourself in a way that you have never trained yourself before. And the reason why is that, first of all, you must understand this: You can. That’s the first reason to do it. Because you have the habit pattern, that does not excuse you from changing the habit or from learning how to apply the antidote. Because things have been this way up until this time does not mean that you have no aptitude for training yourself with method. Through using method and through relying on the method and relying on the help from your spiritual friend or teacher, there’s no reason you cannot do that, even if you have never done that before.

Here’s why. When we deal with our own lives and our own self opinions, our own ideas about ourselves, our own habitual tendencies, our own ways that we function, and particularly our own ways in which we think about and perceive ourselves, there’s a certain degree of flexibility. There is very little about life that will come up and slap you in the head in such a way as to tell you exactly what you are doing wrong. Life will slap you in the head, no doubt about that, but it may happen ten years after you’re making the mistake that you’re making now. It could happen in the next life. You may never have the opportunity to make the connection as to what you did wrong, what happened, where you fell short, and why things didn’t pan out.

So life isn’t really a good teacher. We like to say that we learn from life. Life confuses us more than anything else. We don’t learn from life because many of the causes that we begin within our own lifespan in this lifetime won’t even ripen in this lifetime. When they do, consider yourself fortunate. If you conduct yourself in a way that is inappropriate—unkind, lacking in generosity, self-absorbed, hateful, or whatever—and you see the ripening of it within a short enough time to where you can recognize the connection, that is Guru Rinpoche’s blessing; and you should consider it Guru Rinpoche’s blessing. Really, you should immediately drop to your knees and do some prostrations, because that is luck. That is a blessing. But what usually happens is that the result of what we have done becomes hidden by years, and by all of the flip-flop, inside-out movements that we make during the course of our lives. There are so many options, so many ways that we can go, that we literally don’t have the kind of mind that can follow the threads through. See what I’m saying? We don’t have the kind of mind that can pull the thread and follow it from beginning to end, coupled by the fact that we have the additional problem that relatively, proportionately, very little of our non-virtuous causes will ripen during the course of this lifetime. Most of them will ripen in the bardo state after death, or in the next life, or the life after that. There are no guarantees. So it’s very difficult to learn.

Spiritual Challenges

February 16, 2014 by Jetsunma Ahkon Lhamo

The following is an excerpt from a teaching by Jetsunma Ahkon Lhamo called “The Bodhisattva Ideal”

A Bodhisattva attains a kind of maturity and happiness that is different perhaps from what other sentient beings attain. Other sentient beings revolve in this kind of episodic, cyclic continuum of you’ve got this and now you react in this way, and then you lose it. Now you have this and you react in this way, and then you lose it. And we go up and down and up and down and ride this current of samsaric experiences in the same way that a little child simply plays with everything around them. You know how,when little children are small enough, the world is their toy and they just want what they want, whatever attracts their eye. They want that and they have it. They don’t understand what that wanting is or where it’s going to result.

As sentient beings that have not been matured into the Bodhicittta, we live the same way. But when we mature as spiritual beings, we begin, like spiritual adults, to see the impermanent quality of everything around us—the feeling this and feeling this and riding on this current of acquisitions and power and self-pleasing. We realize that this kind of thing is kind of fruitless in the same way that as adults we grow up and we don’t want to play with blocks any more. We don’t want to color anymore. We don’t want to do those things. We don’t want to explore the world and put everything in our mouths to see what it tastes like, and drop everything from our high chairs. We don’t want to do that. We move on to bigger and better things!

So as spiritual adults, we feel like we have something else that we need to do. We have a plan. We have goals. We have a long-range view. That is the spiritual maturing process that each one of us must go through. How do you go through that? Again, this is something that I have been trying to stress. A child will never grow up if conditions surrounding the child do not “grow them up!” Why would a child grow up? Why would you stop going to Toys ’R Us? There are all kinds of fun things there. If they are living in a bubble that does not challenge them in any way, a child will simply not grow up. But children do grow up into adults and they do so because as they move through time, or as they believe they move through time, they meet with greater and greater challenges. And each experience of meeting with a challenge matures that person into an adult. It is the sum total of their experience that is their actual adulthood. It’s the same way with a spiritual being as they move into the path of practice.

Jetsunma’s Early Life: from “Reborn in the West” by Vicki Mackenzie

December 13, 2013 by Jetsunma Ahkon Lhamo

The following is respectfully quoted from “Reborn in the West” by Vicki Mackenzie

I was fortunate to see her. She had been engaged in a long retreat and was also suffering from the flu–yet she agreed to break her silence to talk with me. I was eager to hear this American dakini’s tale.

‘I’m really just a girl from Brooklyn,’ she began, eyes twinkling with humor. In fact there was little in her background to laugh about. She came from a poor family beset with problems. There was alcoholism, violence and abuse, which she was reluctant to say much about except that she was advised by the police to leave home when she was seventeen. ‘It was a very difficult situation, very difficult,’ she said quietly. ‘As soon as I was able to stand on my own two feet I left. But I did it all right. I managed pretty well,’ she added, wanting to make light of what was obviously a horrendous childhood.

“It was a very mixed religious household with quite a lot of tension surrounding belief. It’s a strange history. I didn’t know my father but my stepfather was Catholic. My mother’s parents were Austrian/Dutch Jews and when she married my stepfather, as she would not be Catholic, she decided that the Dutch Reform Church would be a good compromise between Judaism and Catholicism. She was what we called a ‘lox and begals’ Jew, a cultural Jew, who didn’t really know what was going on other than the food!” Jetsunma said with a deep, throaty laugh.

“I didn’t know my real father but my stepfather was Catholic.” There was a real battle in my house as to how the children should be raised. When my stepfather was winning I was Catholic, which meant I was baptized a Catholic and went to Catholic school where I was taught catechism and the rest. When my mother was winning, or when she could absolutely stand no more of the nuns, she would take me out of catechism and put me into the Dutch Reform Church.’

It seemed to me in the light of the what was to follow that her background, hard though it was, probably helped shape her destiny. The violence in her home must have honed her sensibilities to the suffering of the world, both mental and physical, while her Judaeo-Christian schooling would have given her a first-hand knowledge of the very roots of our Western civilization–an invaluable asset when teaching the principles of avery different belief. Jetsunma would know from personal experience the background of most of her audience.

She was a naturally spiritual child, she continued, with a reverence for Jesus which abides to this day. ‘I feel an enormous devotion for him. I think he is one of the greatest bodhisattvas of the world,’ she said. But she also had an inexplicable attraction to Buddha statues. ‘I use to buy them all the time and either give them to my mother or keep them for myself. I remember when I went through my hippy phase I had my room decorated in psychedelic Buddhist posters and had a Buddhist altar. I had an affinity to it. I liked the simplicity. I didn’t know anything about Buddhism, to tell you the truth, but there was something about it that felt normal.’ She also remembers having beatific visions at the age of ten on her top bunk. And she had prayers that were all her own.

In spite of her innate spirituality she found nothing in either churches or synagogues to attract her. ‘I didn’t like the way religion was practiced in our country,’ she said. ‘It seemed like a vapid experience. People did not seem to pick up any clues from it as to how to live their lives. I don’t ever remember, for instance, being told to care for all sentient beings. I was told to be a good girl, a nice girl, which boiled down to morality. We all knew what good and nice girls didn’t do!” she said.

‘Certainly in my family I noticed that those same parents who could go to church and do all the right things could come home and beat the stew out of their kids, in the same day! To my mind there was something desperately wrong with that–especially when I was the one getting the stew beaten out of me. For a while got really angry with “religion’ and rebelled against it.’

One thing is sure. In this very eclectic religious and radical background that shaped Jetsunma’s early life, there was absolutely no hint of the Tibetan Buddhism which was to emerge so brightly, of its own accord, later in her life. No secret influence, no teachings could be discerned that would explain the emergence of the pure Buddhist philosophy that was to spring automatically from her lips.

Prayer to the Peerless Guru

November 6, 2013 by Jetsunma Ahkon Lhamo

The following is from a series of tweets by Jetsunma Ahkon Lhamo on the first Guru Rinpoche Day of 2012:

Interesting isn’t it, how we tend to think only of ourselves, and not even realize it?

When His Holiness Penor Rinpoche passed to his Parinirvana I thought I’d never recover. But of course this happens, and we do. We must.

I knew there must be a transition for the Palyul Lineage and that although His Holiness Penor Rinpoche prepared us all, some instability may happen. It showed me how loved and powerful he was/is.

He rebuilt Palyul in India after crossing the Himalayas, starting with many and landing with so few – His Holiness Penor Rinpoche made mud bricks himself.

He was, and is, Palyul, as are his Heart Sons.

And now His Holiness Karma Kuchen Rinpoche is on the throne. Great confusion for a bit, and how it’s all right as rain.

What I never expected was how precious a jewel he was to the very fabric of reality – to many of us, the whole world, communal karma, the very universe, (cannot personally speak to the other three million myriads of universes.) The fabric of our lives changed tremendously.

We have a jewel on Palyul’s throne now. Yet the Dharmakaya Buddha who sat before is glorious, peerless, beyond measure. And I miss him so much! And always will. How precious to know he is always with us.

Lord of my life, please return to us swiftly! I’m calling you! Not like a lonely toddler, but with the force of love and the yearning of a small flower for the glory of the sun.

Mother Song and 7 Line Prayer

October 30, 2013 by Jetsunma Ahkon Lhamo

KW 176-x JAL with Atira-web

Mother Song & Seven Line Prayer

The following are the lyrics to The Mother’s Song, recorded by Jetsunma Ahkon Lhamo in 1992. You can listen to the recording by clicking the link above.

The Mother’s Song

This morning I woke up

With the sounds of suffering

Speaking their names

In my ear

Spoke of a time

When the Bodhisattvas

Could no longer appear

How can my heart bear the sorrow?

How can my eyes bear to see?

All of my babes lost and fearful

Having no means to be free.

No way to know of liberation

No way to cross samsara’s sea

How can I comfort the sick and dying?

How can I hold them within me?

If they are called, will they hear?

Will they see?

© Jetsunma Ahkon Lhamo, March 1992

Excitement

October 24, 2013 by Jetsunma Ahkon Lhamo

The following is a teaching by Jetsunma Ahkon Lhamo called “Desire Blocks Happiness”

I don’t know how many times people have come to me and said, “Gosh, I’m so excited about this path! I would love to practice this path. It seems so wonderful! I’m so excited about this path. But you know, that’s like me. I always get really excited about things, and I jump into them; and I get really on fire, and then I burn out real quick. But maybe this one is different! This could be it!” Well, you know, that’s the example that I can give you that I see again and again and again and again. But people are like that about everything! Whenever we get a new object, we get real excited about it, or we become attached to it; and we think this is the thing that is going to make us happy. But it isn’t. Or we get a new relationship, and we just get all in love, and in friendship, and whatever it is, enamored. And then we think, “Oh, this is going to be the one that makes a difference!” And then, well it does, but it isn’t. It really isn’t.

What are we actually seeing? First of all, we’re actually seeing the faults of cyclic existence. What begins must end. What goes up must come down. What causes us to be supremely elated must also cause disappointment. What comes together must result in separation. That is the fault of cyclic existence. That is its quality. We’re seeing the reflection of the condition of cyclic existence. More than that, we are seeing the reflection of our own mind. Our own mind. Our own mind has within it the karma, or cause and effect set-up, if you will, to be able to experience that kind of thing again and again and again. That is our habitual tendency. We are suffering from a kind of inflammation of the mind. The mind is inflamed. Interestingly, the very thing that causes us to be so inflamed by some new toy, you know, some new relationship, some new thing that comes into our life, some new event, some new job, some new spiritual path, some new idea… Something that comes into our mind that causes us to be so oh, gosh! everything’s going to be different now! So breathlessly excited. Everything that comes into our mind like that, that quality of inflammation. And it is like an inflammation, isn’t it? We become all puffed up and red like inflammations. That quality of inflammation is the same quality that will actually lead to the downfall of that particular circumstance to satisfy us, because that very inflammation is an indication of the instability of our minds.

Early Practices: The Life of Jetsunma Ahkon Lhamo

October 12, 2013 by Jetsunma Ahkon Lhamo

The following is respectfully quoted from “Reborn in the West” by Vicki Mackenzie as she recounts Jetsunma’s life story. This section begins as Jetsunma describes her early practice:

‘I left the party at that point,’ was how she put it. ‘I felt “There’s nothing here.”‘ Her meditation then took a quantum leap–right to the heart of mysticism, to the fount of truth.

‘In my next dream I was guided to meditate on the question “If what I have here does not amount to much because it is so finite, then what is there of value?”‘ Suddenly she found herself contemplating absolute reality, or ultimate truth, the primordial wisdom state and the most profound and difficult subject of all Buddhist meditations.

‘I didn’t have the words for it but I knew it wasn’t like God, the old-man-on-the-throne idea. What I was meditating on was a non-dual, all-pervasive essence–that is, form and formless, united, indistinguishable from one another. I saw that it was the only validity–that and the compassionate activity that was an expression of it.’

What Jetsunma was telling me was, I recognized, quite exceptional. What yogis and scholars in Tibetan monasteries take years to achieve after long intellectual delving and even longer years of retreat, Jetsunma had arrived at entirely of her own accord. Tucked away on her farm in North Carolina without any guru, any book, any established doctrine or example to follow, she had not only discovered but realized the two essential truths–wisdom and compassion, the two wings of Tibetan Buddhism that are said to fly you all the way to Enlightenment. Without them you can barely get off the ground. It was an amazing feat.

But she didn’t stop there. While she continued to meditate on absolute nature and compassion she simultaneously began to offer up her body, part by part.

‘This is going to sound strange,’ she said, laughing, ‘but I would lie down–I didn’t know you were suppose to do all of this sitting up–and I would look down at my feet and say, “OK, here they are, ten toes.” And I would really look at my feet and consider all the things that my feet could do for me. And then I would contemplate what was the ultimate good of these things–no ultimate use at all!” ‘ She would continue in that vein throughout her body, staying longer on the parts she felt attached to. ‘No one wants to give up their head, for instance. Our head is like the last bastion of our individuality. And I’d pay special attention to my female parts and my hands. You don’t want to do without them!’

She didn’t know it then, but what she was doing was no less than Chöd, another profound Tibetan meditation whereby you relinquish your body to emptiness for the good of all. It is considered the ultimate physical surrender. How she had come across such a strange meditation in the middle of North Carolina, with only a baby and husband for company, adds to the mystery. I asked again, to make sure, if there were any outside influences that could have been directing her.

‘We were in Ashville in the seventies and nothing metaphysical was happening there,’ she replied. ‘Actually there was one thing–a small transcendental meditation centre had started and friends kept urging me to join. But I resisted. It didn’t feel as though it was the right place for me. They said I had to have a guru, that I couldn’t get anywhere without one, and I replied, “That may be true, but I haven’t found my teacher yet and I will know when I do.” ‘

She continued these intense periods of individual meditation over several years. ‘I would meditate for hours at a time. Luckily I had a baby who was peaceful and slept a lot, and a husband who was supportive of what I was doing. I am eternally grateful for that. But it was still a householder’s retreat. I had a husband, a child and all the chores to do. Even so, I had a much stricter schedule of meditation than I do now.’

The meditations grew in strength and clarity, and when she was around thirty she had a spiritual experience which showed that the time to begin her work had begun. She was reluctant to tell me about it, except to say that she entered a long period of meditation from which she emerged knowing that her personal life had finished and that she had been born solely to be of benefit for others. ‘I never said anything to anyone about it. But oddly, after that people started coming to me.’

Authorization to Teach: from “Reborn in the West”

October 3, 2013 by Jetsunma Ahkon Lhamo

The following is respectfully quoted from “Reborn in the West” by Vicki Mackenzie:

Before receiving her bodhisattva vows she had told Penor Rinpoche of her own vow that she was teaching to her students: ‘I dedicate myself to the liberation and salvation of all sentient beings. I offer my body, speech and mind in order to accomplish the purpose of all sentient beings. I will return in whatever form necessary, under extraordinary circumstances, to end suffering. Let me born in times unpredictable, in places unknown, until all sentient beings are liberated from the cycle of death and rebirth.

Taking no thought for my comfort or safety, precious Buddha make me a pure and perfect instrument by which the end of suffering and death in all forms might be realized. Let me achieve perfect enlightenment for the sake of all beings. And then, by my hand and heart alone, may all beings achieve full enlightenment and perfect liberation.’

Penor Rinpoche had rocked to and fro in unbridled mirth, slapping his thigh in amusement. She had replicated, almost exactly the same prayers that Tibetan lamas spoke. It was another proof of her identity.

He handed her another certificate, authorizing her to teach. ‘This is important,’ he said. ‘People will say you haven’t been studying the dharma, that they have never heard of you. They will not understand. With this paper no one will doubt that you are capable of teaching the dharma.’

Penor Rinpoche went on to tell Jetsunma a little about her famous ‘predecessor’. The first Ahkön Lhamo was the direct student of Tertön Migyur Dorje, a famous revealer of secret teachings, he said. She was a great dakini and spent decades in retreat, only coming down from her cave to help her brother with his monastery. Otherwise people would go to her to receive healing and teaching.

I asked Jetsunma if she were curious to find out more about Ahkön Lhamo or had any memories of the yogini who had lived in Tibet in 1665 and had inspired a religious order that had survived to this present day.

‘I discovered she was pretty wild,’ she replied. ‘She stayed up in her cave and looked pretty wretched, with her hair sticking out all over the place,’ she said, picking up her own unruly locks. ‘She was a crazy yogini type. Some things never change! There was no water in her cave, of course, and she never bathed. Her clothes were rotting on her. But people said whenever they went to her cave it would smell like perfume. Penor Rinpoche told me that people would give her turquoise, gold and coral, but she would refuse it. She was probably holding out for gifts she could accept, like hair-driers! She was probably waiting for electricity to be put into her cave and she could have central heating!’ she joked.

‘As for any memories, I don’t like to make any fuss about the inner experience I have. I can tell you I have some awareness of it, but it’s pretty “Swiss cheesy”. I am curious. I want to go back to Tibet, to see the cave where she practiced. Gyaltrul Rinpoche, the reincarnation of Kunzang Sherab who is now in Oregon, said that when he went back to Tibet he remembered a lot. It’s as though the airways are clearer there.’

There is at least one concrete link between this latter-day bodhisattva, the girl from Brooklyn, and the seventeenth century Tibetan yogini who had helped found a Buddhist lineage. Ahkön Lhamo’s skull, or part of it, is still in existence. It bears an unmistakable hallmark of sanctity. On its top is etched the holy sanskrit syllable ‘Ah’.

The story goes like this. When the first Ahkön Lhamo passed away, they prepared a pyre to cremate her and duly put the body on it. When the last vestige of flesh was burnt away, the skull rose up in the air in front of hundreds of people and flew about a mile before landing at the Palyul monastery, at the foot of her brother Kunzang Sherab’s throne. This was considered the final ultimate display of Ahkön Lhamo’s power and spiritual accomplishments. The great dakini, who was already known for the many miracles she performed, had revealed her true greatness.

The skull became a most treasured relic and was used as a kapala, and instrument used in ritual ceremonies for holding nectar. It remained intact until in the mid-twentieth century the invading Chinese hacked to pieces everything of spiritual significance, including the precious kapala at the Palyul monastery. A lay person saw a piece of the skull among the rubble and, hiding it in his clothes, took it to safety. It was some years before Penor Rinpoche got word that at least part of the holy relic had survived.

The was a vast gap in time between 1660 and 1949, when the present Jetsunma Ahkön Lhamo was born. I asked her the same question I had asked Tenzin Sherab. What lives did she think she had been living in between?

‘I think there were other incarnations, but as Penor Rinpoche told me, they don’t keep track of women. It wasn’t because they were prejudiced against women’s wisdom. In fact, dakinis are the primordial wisdom beings and are held in very high regard. Generally, though, dakinis were not the lineage holders. They spent their lives in solitude, doing spiritual practices. Penor Rinpoche says, and I feel, that there have been many incarnations.

But this present one, as the American woman doing it ‘her way’ as undoubtedly she always had, was the life that was to capture widespread attention. Jetsunma left the United States as a married woman, mother of two and teacher of New Age metaphysics with a bent for worldwide caring, and returned a recognized tulku, a reincarnate lama. For her students this took some adjustment. While they had been happily following the teachings of a woman whom they treated as their equal, they now had to contend not only with a ‘Buddhist’ but also with someone whose rank placed her on an entirely different footing. There was protocol to observe, a new language to learn for the same concepts they had learnt, and the mantle of an old and established ‘religion’ from the East to adopt. Some disciples fell out, but most survived the transition.

Whatever misgivings they might have had about the authenticity of their teacher’s new lofty reincarnate status, however, were completely dispelled when Penor Rinpoche came to see them for the second time in 1988. “He arrived at Poolesville with twelve monks in attendance and conferred the Rinchen Terzod, the revealed teachings of the great Padma Sambhava to all member of KPC. It was the first time he had ever performed the task in his lifetime, and the first time in North America”.

He then conducted an official enthronement of Jetsunma Ahkön Lhamo. News of the thirty-nine-year-old woman who had been recognized as the reincarnation of a famous Tibetan yogini reached the media. Newspaper reporters and television crews descended on KPC. ‘Meet Ahkön Norbu Lhamo, Tibetan Saint,’ blazed the front-page headline of the International Herald Tribune. ‘The Unexpected Incarnation’ cried the Washington Post. She appeared in the popular People magazine. Leading Japanese and German magazines ran articles on her. This was when my own journalist’s antennae, primed for good stories, must have picked up the importance of the event and stored it away for later use.