‘Don’t listen to anybody. Decide by yourself and practice madness. Develop courage for the benefit of all sentient beings. Then you will automatically be free from the knot of attachment. Then you will continually have the confidence of fearlessness and you can then try to open the Great Door of the Hidden Place.’ ~from Tulshuk Lingpa’s Guidebook to the Hidden Land
‘Don’t listen to anybody. Decide by yourself and practise madness. Develop courage for the benefit of all sentient beings. Then you will automatically be free from the knot of attachment. Then you will continually have the confidence of fearlessness and you can then try to open the Great Door of the Hidden Place.’ —Tulshuk Lingpa, from his Guidebook to the Hidden Land
CHAPTER ONE A Crack in the World
‘How can her journey into the mountains make me question my sense of reality?’ I asked Tinley. He laughed. ‘It’s better she tells you herself,’ he said. ‘But—’ ‘Trust me,’ Tinley said, looking up from the powder in his mortar and pestle, which was as blue as the empty Tibetan sky. He looked me in the eye: ‘I tell you—it will stretch your sense of what’s possible. You’ll think she’s spun the tale in her head. But it’s entirely true.’
She walked into the room dressed in her nun’s robes. One hand was working the beads of her mala, a Tibetan rosary, and the other she ran across the stubble of her shaved head and smiled when she saw me. I had been away from Sikkim and hadn’t seen her in almost a year. She said something in Tibetan and Tinley interpreted: ‘She said that since you are meeting again after such a long time, it means you still have karma together. Otherwise you wouldn’t be meeting again.’ ‘It must be that story,’ I said, laughing. ‘It is a story that has changed many people’s fates,’ Tinley said, with an enigmatic twinkle in his eye. ‘We’ll see what happens to you.’
Even as a child she had heard that there was a place called Beyul Demoshong, a hidden valley in Sikkim she described as a heaven you enter through a cave, a place where you would live forever.
‘Why do you think it is so peaceful here in Sikkim and there is so much happiness?’ she asked, her eyes clear and penetrating. ‘It is because we are living so close to Mount Kanchenjunga.’
CHAPTER TWO Into the Rabbit Hole
‘Only if you are willing to give up everything and leave forever,’ she had told me, ‘only then can you go to the beyul.’ Dorje Wangmo left her native Bhutan and never returned. She gladly gave up not only her possessions but was quite willing to say goodbye to everyone she had ever known, so infinitely greater was the place to which she was going.
Terma remains hidden from the world until time itself ripens, until a particular terton takes incarnation and ‘opens’ it.
At the same time that he was hiding a terma in the world outside, he was also planting it inside, in the mind of one of his disciples. Not on the surface of his mind, the part that changes, that holds memories and is lost from one lifetime to another. He planted the knowledge of the terma in the unchanging layer of his disciple’s mind, where the teaching would be protected. What happens is this: when the time comes and a particular terma is needed, the right disciple takes an incarnation. He is a bit crazy. He has the ability to enter a mystic state and have revealed to him by a dharma protector or a dakini—a female messenger or guide—the teaching or empowerment given directly by Padmasambhava.
Tulshuk Lingpa was a terton. Tertons are known for being crazy—and totally unpredictable. They are famous for being idiosyncratic and irrational, and by their very nature inscrutable. Illogical behaviour is their forte. They are expected to act in ways that defy the rationality to which the rest of us are bound. After all they reveal hidden treasures, and because of this they are especially revered among Tibetans and—like precious jewels—they are exceedingly rare. You cannot train to become a terton. You are born with the ability—or not.
As William Blake wrote in his The Marriage of Heaven and Hell: ‘Improvement makes straight roads, but the crooked roads without Improvement, are roads of Genius.’ Kunsang explained that his father’s name was Tulshuk Lingpa. Lingpas are like the elites of tertons. ‘They find special hidden treasures,’ he said, ‘therefore, they are especially crazy!’ ‘And the name Tulshuk,’ I asked. ‘Does that have significance?’
He was a lama who had taken reincarnation many times at the Domang Gompa, increasing his spiritual insight with each successive incarnation. His name was Dorje Dechen Lingpa. Being a lingpa, one of those rare elites of treasure revealers, he had the spark and could recognize it in the boy. He saw the boy’s easy capacity for both learning and mischief. He observed that though he skipped most of his lessons, he earned the jealousy of his classmates by learning and being able to recite the ancient texts with only a single cursory reading. He began to suspect the boy had an extraordinary future ahead of him.
Tibetan lamas chant sacred syllables at such a deep pitch you can feel the empty air between you vibrate. Imagine how much stronger the vibration would be if you’re in a cave and tons of ancient rocks resound. If you’re seven years old and an apprentice, learning both the reality of the Unseen and how to communicate with it, the lama appears to you like a wizard and the beating of his drum is heard in other worlds; then the ringing of his bell calls forth unseen beings. You sit—fear riding up your spine and spilling over into wonder and awe as the atmosphere in the cave concentrates and takes on form.
The children all pulled back, faces marked by fear—except for one, Senge Dorje, whose face grew steady. He raised his hand and fixing his eyes on the purba closest to him, reached out and with a confidence born out of fearlessness he grasped it and held it fast. The other children gasped in wonder and admiration at their comrade who had reached into a vision and brought back a piece; Dorje Dechen Lingpa simply smiled. This is the story as Kunsang told it. Of course neither he nor I was there.
Tulshuk Lingpa was a terton. Tertons are known for being crazy—and totally unpredictable. They are famous for being idiosyncratic and irrational, and by their very nature inscrutable. Illogical behavior is their forte. They are expected to act in ways that defy the rationality to which the rest of us are bound. After all they reveal hidden treasures, and because of this they are especially revered among Tibetans and—like precious jewels—they are exceedingly rare. You cannot train to become a terton. You are born with the ability—or not.
Kunsang is a layperson; he does not shave his head nor does he wear a robe, except on special occasions when he wears the white robe of the tantric practitioners known as the nagpas. Yet he is considered by many to be a rinpoche. Rinpoche, meaning precious one, is the term Tibetans reserve for their high lamas. Kunsang is known as the Dungsay Rinpoche, the title used for the son of a high lama. The special and almost mediumistic ability lingpas have to enter a timeless state and bring something back into time—be it a teaching in the form of ter, or treasure, or directions to a hidden valley—is often passed on from father to son.
Now that his children and the Tamang Tulku have taken over the daily running of the family clothing stalls, he devotes himself even more fully to the dharma, with much of his day spent sitting cross-legged on his bed with an open pecha, or scripture, before him, white clouds of sang billowing to the heavens outside his window as he performs rituals for himself and his family as well as for others.
At times, they brought sick people to him; he’d listen to symptoms, consult astrological calendars, dispense Tibetan medicines and herbal teas, and on the basis of the faith they had in him, offer them the strength to heal themselves. Once, after the son of an old Tibetan man who was very ill had left with his little vial of blessed water, Kunsang said, ‘What to do? When they come, I must do something. Though sometimes I’m busy, busy—too busy! My father was offered many monasteries. Me too. But I’m not interested. If you have your own monastery, when someone dies you have to go and do puja for the whole day. And not just one day. When people get sick, it’s all the time people saying, “Rinpoche, hurry. Hurry!” And what to say? You have to go.’
CHAPTER THREE Eloping over Mountain Passes
Within Tibetan tradition, we can distinguish between two types of hidden lands. One is known as the kingdom of Shambhala and, like all kingdoms, it has a history, including a known succession of kings and even a literature. Though the Kalachakra Tantra—one of the basic esoteric teachings of Tibetan Buddhism—came to Tibet via India, it is said to have originated in this hidden kingdom. Others, among them the Russian painter and writer Nicholas Roerich and his wife Helena Ivanovna, are said to have had communication with the Hidden Masters of Shambhala. The Masters are believed to be controlling the spiritual evolution of the planet from this kingdom, whose location has never been definitely pinned down. By most accounts it is hidden behind a ring of snow peaks somewhere north of western Tibet. It is believed the kingdom of Shambhala will have a definite role in the future of humanity. When chaos, destruction and the forces of darkness threaten to overtake the planet, the king of Shambhala will lead a mighty force to eradicate the foe and found a reign of peace and spiritual enlightenment. Though many of Tulshuk Lingpa’s followers referred to the land he was taking them to as Shambhala (and even Heaven, Paradise or Shangri-La), strictly speaking it was not Shambhala or any of these other places that he was speaking of.
Concepts about these hidden valleys vary, even amongst learned lamas. Some say that a person who is not spiritually advanced—someone without the karma to find or enter one—could climb into the high mountains, stumble upon one of these valleys and not even realize it. One could walk through a landscape that would be transformed into a place of miracle and wonder by a person of spiritual understanding, and notice nothing. William Blake once said, ‘If the doors of perception were cleansed, everything would appear to man as it is, infinite.’
In a futile attempt to oust the Chinese when they invaded Tibet, the American CIA started training the fierce Khampas in guerrilla warfare. Tulshuk Lingpa’s halfsister Tashi Lhamo married a Tibetan man who was trained by the CIA. They escaped to Nepal and received asylum in France. Now they live and have homes in Paris, New York and Kathmandu.
Tulshuk Lingpa was a handsome and charismatic young man with an air of magic about him. She begged her parents to let her go to the monastery to receive the teachings of this exotic lingpa from Golok. Her parents agreed, and she stayed there for about three months, by the end of which she was both in love with Tulshuk Lingpa and fired about the teachings she had received. She approached Tulshuk Lingpa as he was about to leave and told him she wanted to become a nun. ‘It’s not necessary for you to become a nun,’ he said with a glint in his eye to the beautiful young woman who was to become Kunsang’s mother. ‘Come with me. Let’s go together!’
The Masters are believed to be controlling the spiritual evolution of the planet from this kingdom, whose location has never been definitely pinned down. By most accounts it is hidden behind a ring of snow peaks somewhere north of western Tibet. It is believed the kingdom of Shambhala will have a definite role in the future of humanity. When chaos, destruction and the forces of darkness threaten to overtake the planet, the king of Shambhala will lead a mighty force to eradicate the foe and found a reign of peace and spiritual enlightenment.
CHAPTER FOUR Behind the Heart of the Buddha of Compassion
One day Kunsang told me, ‘My father always had followers, and always there were people who thought him mad.’ Tulshuk means crazy—but it also means fickle, mutable or changeable. So a man with a tulshuk nature would always be changing his mind—saying one thing in the morning, something else in the afternoon and contradicting both by evening. Though sober, he would get drunk, and when drunk he would act as if sober. Though a lama, he would have lovers, and when with them would still act as a lama. Though holy, he would be irreverent but while irreverent he would still retain his holiness.
‘One time, my father’s disciples tested him,’ Kunsang told me. ‘They plied him with so much alcohol that anyone else would have passed out. They set him up straight and put a pen in his hand and a piece of paper on his lap. Though he could hardly see, he commenced to write the words from an important scripture from memory—the Tibetan letters perfectly formed and even. Every time his hand strayed from the page and he dropped the pen without even being aware, they’d put the pen back in his hand and put the tip where he had left off—and he’d continue writing. To everyone’s amazement—including my own—he missed not a single letter or vocal mark. The words were formed perfectly across the page.’ This was a theme Kunsang returned to repeatedly: his father’s drinking and subsequent craziness. Although I never saw Kunsang drink, his father’s prowess at drinking was an endless source of wonder and laughter for him.
In a futile attempt to oust the Chinese when they invaded Tibet, the American CIA started training the fierce Khampas in guerrilla warfare. Tulshuk Lingpa’s half-sister Tashi Lhamo married a Tibetan man who was trained by the CIA. They escaped to Nepal and received asylum in France. Now they live and have homes in Paris, New York and Kathmandu.
‘“I’m drunk,” he said to his two disciples. “So you must help me. Last night in my dream I was visited by a dakini. She told me to look behind the heart of Chenresig.” ‘What the dakini’s cryptic instruction meant, and how to fulfil it was up to his own tulshuk nature to figure out. That was his crazy genius. ‘“Where do you think the heart of Chenresig would be?” he asked his disciples. He was referring to the Buddha of Compassion, whose statue inside the temple was on the altar on the other side of the mud and stone wall he was examining.
‘My father didn’t sleep that night. The light was on in his room right past the time of the rising sun which he hardly noticed, so engrossed was he in unfolding the meaning contained in those few obscure letters of a language only he could understand. It took some days for him to fully unfold the meaning of the scratches found on that ancient and tiny scroll. When he was through, he had produced two pechas, or scriptures, of 300 pages each. Coming directly from Chenresig, a great and glorious heart, they told about the ending of suffering. Statue of Chenresig, Triloknath Temple.
CHAPTER FIVE Invasions and Incarnations
‘“I’m drunk,” he said to his two disciples. “So you must help me. Last night in my dream I was visited by a dakini. She told me to look behind the heart of Chenresig.” ‘What the dakini’s cryptic instruction meant, and how to fulfill it was up to his own tulshuk nature to figure out. That was his crazy genius. ‘“Where do you think the heart of Chenresig would be?” he asked his disciples. He was referring to the Buddha of Compassion, whose statue inside the temple was on the altar on the other side of the mud and stone wall he was examining.
Nyima Odser was like a sadhu, a wandering holy man, never staying in one place. He was not a stable type of person. He was a crazy yogi like my father. And like my father, he drank a lot.’
Nyima Odser stopped his horse and started drinking chang, the thick, milky, butter and cheese millet beer of Tibet. After he’d drunk quite a few, the proprietor became nervous. A wild-looking lama riding out of the vast plane with eyes like a tiger’s and now drunk beyond all measure was sure to try to pull something when it came to paying the bill.
‘My father didn’t sleep that night. The light was on in his room right past the time of the rising sun which he hardly noticed, so engrossed was he in unfolding the meaning contained in those few obscure letters of a language only he could understand. It took some days for him to fully unfold the meaning of the scratches found on that ancient and tiny scroll. When he was through, he had produced two pechas, or scriptures, of 300 pages each. Coming directly from Chenresig, a great and glorious heart, they told about the ending of suffering.
CHAPTER SIX The Place of the Female Cannibal
The Place of the Female Cannibal, Simoling [Telling], Lahaul. There is no external mark of a truly spiritual person. You’ll recognize it not by whether he or she wears a robe or a business suit, a turban or a baseball cap. How versed he is in the scriptures or whether he knows the rituals has nothing to do with it. It doesn’t matter whether he eats meat or not, takes his rest on Saturday or Sunday or whether he spends his days in devotion or in the office. The mark of a person who is spiritually advanced is that he or she has natural and spontaneous compassion.
While a Western-trained doctor would dismiss spirits as a cause of disease, he might very well be able to demonstrate to a lama the role of microbes in a disease such as leprosy. While the lama would be quite capable of understanding the physical role of microbes in disease, he wouldn’t see the microbe as its root cause. He would ask a further question: Why was this particular person or community being affected at this particular time? To answer that, he would make investigations in the hidden realms he was conversant in, the realms of spirits and demons.
But there was something in his eyes; they penetrated me like two burning coals. I knew immediately that he could help my village.
One always had the feeling with him that there was more to him than he revealed.
‘“Cutting trees at a spring,” Tulshuk Lingpa explained, “puts the earth out of balance and causes disturbances in the spirit world. Your disappearing flesh is the result of the nagas’ anger. It is because of that we now have the demon himself, Nagaraksha, before us.”
CHAPTER SEVEN Sacrifices, Sponsors and Caves
Chod, which literally means ‘cutting’ or ‘chopping’, is practised in dangerous places, like the charnel grounds at night, places where one is in constant reminder that life is fleeting. The Chod practitioner goes to the cremation ground, where the souls of demons and the dead roam. With the help of a drum, bell and horn made from a human thighbone, he calls to these beings and he visualizes his flesh being cut from his bones. He then offers his warm flesh and blood to the demons and for all who need the nourishment his body can provide. It is a profound practice of selflessness, a short road to realization.
“The Place of the Female Cannibal” Shrimoling [Telling], Lahaul There is no external mark of a truly spiritual person. You’ll recognize it not by whether he or she wears a robe or a business suit, a turban or a baseball cap. How versed he is in the scriptures or whether he knows the rituals has nothing to do with it. It doesn’t matter whether he eats meat or not, takes his rest on Saturday or Sunday or whether he spends his days in devotion or in the office. The mark of a person who is spiritually advanced is that he or she has natural and spontaneous compassion.
CHAPTER EIGHT The Call
His actions were marked by a sense of compassion. He developed fully the nature of the name that Dorje Dechen Lingpa bestowed upon him. Yet what was changeable and unpredictable in his outward behaviour, what appeared inconsistent, capricious and erratic, was but the outward appearance of a man whose mind was attuned to other things, and who was a visionary.
Imagine the insight needed to foresee conditions in a future age. It is like a chess master who with his first move already foresees his last. Only someone with tremendous and even miraculous understanding of the interconnected nature of all things could create the conditions in which the worsening times would naturally coincide with the incarnation of the right terton, whose insight would ripen in his consciousness just when it became necessary for the crack to form.
‘In the future,’ she said to him, ‘I will come to your dreams, and I will keep reminding you. We have a tremendous work.’ Tulshuk Lingpa had visions of the time that Padmasambhava hid the ter, which he later wrote about in his neyik, or guidebook to the beyul, titled The Great Secret Talk of the Dakinis Showing the Way to Demoshong.
Dakini is a Sanskrit term meaning Sky Walker. The Tibetan is khandro. Much is communicated to tertons by way of khandros, who appear in their dreams and visions. Khandros can also take human form and become the terton’s spiritual as well as physical consort, a sort of spiritual bride. In fact, for the terton to perform certain tasks, he must have a khandro with him. She provides the link with the deepest strata of the spiritual realms, acting as an intermediary and guide. To open a beyul, the khandro must be with him.
Chod, which literally means ‘cutting’ or ‘chopping’, is practiced in dangerous places, like the charnel grounds at night, places where one is in constant reminder that life is fleeting. The chod practitioner goes to the cremation ground, where the souls of demons and the dead roam. With the help of a drum, bell and horn made from a human thighbone, he calls to these beings and he visualizes his flesh being cut from his bones. He then offers his warm flesh and blood to the demons and for all who need the nourishment his body can provide. It is a profound practice of selflessness, a short road to realization.
CHAPTER NINE The Discovery
His actions were marked by a sense of compassion. He developed fully the nature of the name that Dorje Dechen Lingpa bestowed upon him. Yet what was changeable and unpredictable in his outward behavior, what appeared inconsistent, capricious and erratic, was but the outward appearance of a man whose mind was attuned to other things, and who was a visionary.
If you sincerely follow what I teach, you will certainly be happy. Whatever I do, I do it not for my own interest. Nourishing the desire for the good and welfare of the many, I am little concerned with what others do—or with whether they praise or insult me.
Though the negative forces burning with wrath might curse you, no harm can be caused to you by these evil spirits and demons. This is because of your pure heart and the strength of your noble aspirations. Since all things are empty and non-existent, you will live long and accumulate more merit, and your acts of benevolence will increase. However, you must be cautious not to associate with foolish people. Together with the retinue of your firm-hearted and devout followers, do your utmost to fight the forces that cause spiritual obstructions.
With the sacrificial clouds appearing as domes standing over things offered during a ceremony and the endless congregation of strong-hearted dakinis, I cannot help but praise this place, the wonder of which knows no bounds. Thus, having offered my sincere compliments from the core of my heart I made an extensive tour of the place, and saw many kinds of spectacles. That evening a khandro named Langpoi Gochen, appeared in my dream and gave me instructions that helped me eliminate negative emotions and mental dullness.
Having said this, I meditated upon the fact that gods and spirits are nothing but the creations of one’s own mind; and while thinking thus, the so-called spirits disappeared without a trace. When this dream-like state vanished, there came from out of the sky a sweet sound—Hung… Hung… Hung—that continued for a long time, after which it turned into a voice, which said, ‘Go west, to Padmasambhava’s cave of meditation, which is known as Nub Dechen Phug. There, meditate upon the wrathful demoness Drowo Loe until there is no difference between you and the demoness; then offer lavish presents to the gods and spirits.’
you do not fall prey to the cajoling of the gods and demons who do not keep their promises, and who are immodest in character and who desire evil for others—if you thus escape from the evil effects of the demons, undoubtedly you will come to own this sacred place. Do not forget what I have just told you: take it seriously in your heart.’ He repeated this last line three times, and I woke up from my sleep.
‘Moreover, if they meditate on Padmasambhava and his consorts, break not their sacred vows, and continue to act according to my predictions, they will certainly be able to achieve supreme consummation of Buddhahood in this life. ‘Those who doubt and cannot believe the predictions of mine, the so-named Padmasambhava, and remain attached to their relatives and the friends of this life and this world will not be able to fulfil their aspirations. How, then, could they enjoy the fortune of visiting the hidden sacred land? ‘Those who do not believe me and other incarnate beings, those who have the wrong view of our activities, use abusive language against us, and instead believe in the tricks of the hypocrites—and are therefore unable to act according to the holy teachings—will fall down into hell. Therefore, it is important that you associate only with people who abide by the holy vows.
Tulshuk Lingpa concludes The Creeper-Plant of the Mind with some general considerations: In making a journey to Beyul Demoshong, all doubt and hesitation must totally vanish. O you multitude of people who are possessed of your past good deeds and fortunes, if you desire to visit the rugged country, the Hidden Land of Padmasambhava, give up your distrust, which is like a poison; develop in your heart a sense of faith and pure thought. Avoid the company of people that commit sinful acts in these degenerate times. Join the company of the faithful followers of the dharma. Do not attach yourself to worldly things. Come! Join me in my tour of Demoshong. May it be the cause of peace and happiness for all beings.
‘Moreover, if they meditate on Padmasambhava and his consorts, break not their sacred vows, and continue to act according to my predictions, they will certainly be able to achieve supreme consummation of Buddhahood in this life. ‘Those who doubt and cannot believe the predictions of mine, the so-named Padmasambhava, and remain attached to their relatives and the friends of this life and this world will not be able to fulfill their aspirations. How, then, could they enjoy the fortune of visiting the hidden sacred land? ‘Those who do not believe me and other incarnate beings, those who have the wrong view of our activities, use abusive language against us, and instead believe in the tricks of the hypocrites—and are therefore unable to act according to the holy teachings—will fall down into hell. Therefore, it is important that you associate only with people who abide by the holy vows.