Fixing to Die Blues

People have asked me—over the years—whether I would ever provide commentary on my poetry. I have usually answered that I would leave that to those better qualified. However, as that could seem somewhat churlish, I will venture some comments on ‘Fixing to Die Blues’ which I wrote in Greenwich Village, New York on the 31st of October 1992. It may not turn out to be a commentary in terms of an explanation – but maybe more of a series of comments. Let us begin with the poem – which is not a Blues and has scant connection with preparing to quit the physical body.

Fixing to Die Blues

Well I woke up this morning; looked out on rainy New York window glittering with same self-perfect rain
That’s fallen from sky for a hundred thousand million years: fresh as first moment—plip—clear lake of Mind.
Fall leaves, flickering choir of empty canopy colour mist—sitting empty—as if nothing were going to happen.
Echoes remain in their own space. Chögyam—laughing softly—remains in his own space elated by damp –
Elated by Fall colours. Chögyam—laughing softly—says: I may well die this year, or sometime next year.
Now students don’t really like to hear that kind of thing. Students have careful plans for Chögyam to be:
Solid, permanent, separate, continuous, and defined – so that they can be immortal and eternally extenuated
In the time they take to make their decisions. Students ask anxiously after Chögyam’s health – but he grins:
Tells them: I’m fine. So why this talk of death? Maybe something terrible is lurking just around the corner.

Chögyam consults 1898 pocket watch: Well it might happen. Death happens you know. But students say:
You’re just talking about impermanence – we’re going to die too. Chögyam laughs like pastrami hero sandwich
And says: No—that’s highly unlikely—you’re all going to live forever! It’s just Chögyam who might die.
Chögyam works out for an hour a day—he’s on a tight schedule—he’s actually in quite good shape for his age
In spite of gossip and global warming he survives. They call him the ‘Arnold Schwarzenegger of the Dharma’
The dakinis sing: Just call me ‘Arnie of the Dharma’, Ange-el, just kiss my cheek before you leave me.
Chögyam almost glows with health and vitality – like an advertisement for Pizza Il Dottore and Barolo –
But Chögyam—even though invincible—might not inhabit late twentieth century bardo – that much longer.
The accounting offices of Armageddon are rampant with trained armadillos who know all about the future.

But seriously—there’s no particular sense to trivial assertions such as these—just Chögyam whittering away;
Maybe these unattractive allusions to death are just some kind of vajra-whimsy born of an inauspicious year;
A luridly limitless lamentation—born of the shine on the passing moment—in which everyone is immortal,
Laughing and crying beyond space and time. It can’t be denied however. It could happen. People die all the time.
Chögyam has been told that it’s quite a common occurrence. He may of course be wrong. That also happens.
It may be, that he’s been badly misinformed. He’s made no plans to enter into any other kind of dimension
He could easily live to be quite old—which may or may not be pleasant—but teachings make it fairly plain:
Time of death is uncertain. Every breath could be last breath. Every breath is last breath. Every breath . . .
And the dakinis sing so sweetly: Hello I must be going. Chögyam has no particular desire, this way or that.

Appearing and disappearing are occupational hazards of being – so death is the very least of Chögyam’s worries,
He’ll either get re-cycled or not. True—he’s made certain plans: books; poems; empowerments; and teachings –
These things will either happen or not. Chögyam can’t tell what the next minutes or months are going to bring.
Christmas is coming soon—like a spectacular ticking clock loaded with improbable birds—and then, who knows.
Students approach Chögyam with their concern – with their kindly conceptualisation about his taking a holiday.
So, he considered holidays in Scotland—sampling wines in Tuscany—but circumstances never seem conducive,
And anyhow—unless people receive teachings—what is there in dangling tootsies in unpronounceable oceans?
Somehow New York scenery is gorgeous just the way it is. West 15th teeters on the very brink of graciousness;
Greenwich Village on the verge of consummate crispness – and Chögyam is singing his ‘Fixing to Die Blues’.

Chögyam strolls down Bleecker, takes a right down onto Christopher; to go buy dangerous extra-espresso beans.
But Bleecker sneaks invitations in all directions from Grampa’s to Hudson glowing dim evening in luminosity
Displaying tree-spaces dripping rain; Seventh Avenue is busy with being-spaces. Shops full of transparent item-spaces –
Someone gives Chögyam suede shirt, deer-skin waistcoat, and leather duster re-assurances that everything –
Despite resilient catalogue entourage of rampant reified riot, and dramatic improbability factors – will be fine.
His students wish him to persist in some kind of recognisable embodied form. They all worry about him;
Say he works too hard, sleeps too little—travels too much—they’d like him to eat a thoroughly good breakfast;
They’d like to take him out for meals. They’d like him to look after himself. They’d like to feed him chicken soup.
They send him copious supplies of alphabet vitamins and minerals – Chinese herbal medicine for his ankles.

Their kindness makes him cry – their practice keeps him alive. They give him lox and bagels with cream cheese
They’d like to brew him pints of coffee and take him shopping for 501s and riding boots with Spanish curves,
Irish riding coats and tailor made moleskin britches, 1850s elk hide dusters with wonderfully crafted pockets,
Neat six pocket waistcoats with Victorian buttons. They like to hear him holding forth as rabid English Lama
In unlikely social settings – or as Doc Holliday in highly polished Western boots, black silk Hassidic jacket,
And Prussian blue polka-dot cravat. They like to ask formal questions about nature of Mind and non-duality
And have him regale them with insane thousand watt roller coaster peddle-to-the-floor turbo-drive vajra paradox.
But they’d rather he didn’t mention death too often; or ask problematic questions: What would your choice be –
If you knew you only had a year to live? or How do you intend employ the remaining time at your disposal?

Chögyam is spontaneously happiness, irritation, and bewilderment for everyone participating in Chögyam event.
He is unlikely form and emptiness for you all in his inconsequential eccentricity and audacious ordinariness.
He would like to be searingly and matter-of-factly useful to you all. Let him be: conflagration of panache.
Let him be: moment-by-moment immaculacy pure-panic making it impossible to pay mortgage scheme banality.
Let him be: fire of lineage which melts frozen veins of ‘being sensible’ or being either ordinary or extraordinary.
Let him be: vajra voltage Hollywood movie vajra explosion exposition of non-duality which undermines normality
And inhibits all desire to blend with the woeful world-weary wallpaper of clinically careful unconsciousness.
Let him be: philanthropic phantom jet fuselage, gassed to the gunnels with final reserves of world’s fossil fuel
In order that no one makes do with warm ice-cream enema of diluted rationalisation and calculated nervousness.

Let him be: clear conundrum of contradiction coruscations in the symposium of exacerbated sartorial selectivity
So that no one will be lured into devious digressions of dilapidated diurnal duration and diminished debacles.
Let him be: marrow, lymphatic fluid, and mucus of practice, so that no one can invest in appalling melodrama
Of time spent writhing in tepidarium torture of tedious on-going experiments in dolorous domestic dreariness.
Let him be: fingernails, toenails, hair, unsightly undercarriage follicles, and nasal septum of rapturous commitment
So that no one will have to relegate sexuality of vivacious perception to boarding kennels of self contraction;
Let him be: blood, bone, cartilage, and gristle of indestructible mantrayana precepts, which make it impossible
To bathe in obfuscatory offal – and interminable dismal low-threshold-pain therapy excuses for refusal to be alive,
Or to plumb the depths of moronic dependence on externalist factory-finished mechanisms of understanding.

Let him be: self-lubricating multi-grinder waste disposal unit, garbage truck, and sanitary ware of the outer tantras
So that no one will need to cramp ecstatic meteorology of being in righteous rigour mortis of atrophied anorexia;
Let him be: the high pressure acid hose, flame thrower, heat seeking missile, and nuclear warhead of Mahayoga
So that no one will need to quantify sensual romance of presence through vain arthritic measure of mediocrity.
Let him be: sedition soirée consultant, emotional enchantment architect, and revelation entrepreneur of Anuyoga,
So that no one will take refuge in anal retentive eternalism – and embalm pristine awareness in valetudinarianism.
Let him be: self-liberating jubilatory space memorandum, triumphant multifaceted clear lake mirror of Atiyoga
So that no one has to endure the half-baked hell of stultified sanctity which encrusts wonder in warrandice.
And the dakinis sing: Let him be, let him be, let him be let him be, whisper words of wisdom – let him be.

Let him be: vajra crazy badinage – sound of empty words, in empty ears, in empty concepts in non-dual space.
Chögyam knows that he doesn’t really need to be here, just to say things; or, let delirious chatter spill into airwaves
Of audience fascination with vajra verbiage. He’d like to help everyone with their various intriguing situations.
He’d like to render some sort of assistance, enabling pleasure and pain to self-manifest as ornaments of rigpa.
Chögyam says: Maybe I won’t die so soon – but it doesn’t matter if I do. Chögyam says: Ya’ll will be just fine.
Chögyam says: There’ll be more than plenty enough joy and grief to go round – no one will have to go short.
Chögyam says: You could get on without me – you don’t need me to confuse you with my emptiness and form.
I love you all. I love your neuroses – just as they are. I’ll be around as long as you want me to be – if I can.
Chögyam says: When the little red rooster crows in the mist – the weather will either change, or it’ll stay as it is.

Ngak’chang Rinpoche, Greenwich Village, New York – 31st of October 1992

So – What would your choice be – if you knew you only had a year to live? That was a question I was asking students in 1992. It occurred to me—in observing the lives of apprentices—that people have various ways of making choices. One way of making a choice is to imagine that we have a great deal of time at our disposal – but if we clip the time down in decades, it affects the nature of our choices. What happens when we get down to ten years left? What happens when we get down to five years left? What happens when we get down to one year left? What are our choices then?

‘Chögyam—laughing softly—says: I may well die this year, or sometime next year. Now students don’t really like to hear that kind of thing. Students have careful plans for Chögyam to be: Solid, permanent, separate, continuous, and defined – so that they can be immortal and eternally extenuated in the time they take to make their decisions.’

The time we take, to make our decisions—and the decisions we make—need to be seen in the perspective of life running out. It is simple. We regard time as a limited resource and therefore we avoid wasting time. That does not mean that we do not have fun. We have a great deal of fun – but we do not waste time on negativity – or having problems which would look ridiculous in the light of death.

Let him be: fire of lineage which melts frozen veins of ‘being sensible’ or being either ordinary or extraordinary.

We are usually encouraging when it comes to people acting sensibly – but there are two types of ‘sensible’:

a. The ordinary pragmatic mode of ‘sensible’ is one which gravitates toward circumspection – of trying to have a broader view and a view that takes in long-term considerations. Over the last year we have been using the word ‘circumspection’ more often. Circumspection seems to be a quality which is often lacking in human beings. Circumspection is the quality of being able to look at a situation before acting. One looks around a situation and then acts in the light of what will be for the good of everyone concerned. Circumspection does not lend itself to knee-jerk reactions.

b. The undesirable version of ‘sensible’ is called ‘playing safe’ or being cautious in situations where zest is required. This second type of being sensible is the impulse to keep life as it is—to maintain the status quo—rather than evolving or changing. It is drearily sensible not to take off your clothes and roll in the snow. It is drearily sensible to seek assurances that everything is going to be alright. It is drearily sensible to turn down one lively Worcester after another on the basis that they are all too uncontrollable. It is drearily sensible to make sure that no one sees you as unusual. It is drearily sensible to ‘avoid making a fool of yourself’ merely through failure to display unwithheld enthusiasm. It is drearily sensible to be reserved when others are being unreserved. It is drearily sensible to pretend that you are a normal average citizen who is unlikely to do or say anything surprising. It is drearily sensible grow old before your time. It is drearily sensible to be conventional. It is drearily sensible to be unconventional through fear of being seen as conventional. It is drearily sensible to study the wider parameters of general knowledge in order never to be caught out not knowing who trounced whom at Wimbledon. It is drearily sensible to wear whatever comes to hand form the High Street stores as if personal choice had not yet been generically sanctioned by mass media demand. It is drearily sensible to remain on the periphery of commitment – on the basis that you need to examine the situation forever to ensure that it is not going to overwhelm you.

Let him be: vajra voltage Hollywood movie vajra explosion exposition of non-duality which undermines normality

And inhibits all desire to blend with the woeful world-weary wallpaper of the clinically careful unconsciousness.

We are not in favour of adolescent recklessness – but neither do we advocate the maundering mildewed middle-aged myopia which pads around in ever-so-comfy snug-as-snug-can-be rosy-poesy carpet slipperettes trying to intuit the presence of the nearest comfort station in order that adventurous bladder control is never required. There would seem to be a valuable quality with every age group and it would be worthwhile to examine what these qualities are. An authentic adult is one who is prepared to be childlike – when that childlike quality is required by existence. Children have enthusiasm and excitement which permeates the moment. Children also move on from one fascination to another. Adolescents can be extreme. They can be seekers of intensity – but that can also be altruistic and unreservedly committed to where they are. Adolescents tend to lack circumspection – but in the best cases they are willing to learn from their mistakes. The elderly—in the best cases—have circumspection and the wisdom which comes of knowing that there are few simple answers. But what of adults? What is an adult? We imagine that there could be definitions beyond those offered by medical science – but we wonder what they would be? For us, adulthood is the phase in which we have access to all qualities – those of childhood, adolescence, and maturity. As adults we should be able to move in and out of differing modes of being according to what is required by human circumstances. An adult is neither a road-kill on the highway of life nor a tediously predicable survivor with secure pension plan.

Let him be: philanthropic phantom jet fuselage, gassed to the gunnels with final reserves of world’s fossil fuel

In order that no one makes do with warm ice-cream enema of diluted rationalisation and calculated nervousness.

We find it important to impress upon apprentices that the adoption of ‘certain political views’ does not represent intelligence or provide the unquestioned mandate for respect. Most people hold the views they hold on the basis of societal conditioning. That means—in simple terms—that most people’s views are not their own – they have merely adopted them via the process of learning how to be accepted in the societies in which they have found themselves. The alternative failure with regard to intelligence—and all other known qualities—is for people to rebel and take the opposite view via the process of learning how to be seen as different in societies in which they have found themselves. Both modes are primitive. If one has a view it needs to be a considered view – and it is not possible to have a considered view if one has not explored the nature of contrasting views over a reasonable period of time. It is far easier to adopt a view—lock, stock, and barrel—than it is to look at everything as it is. It is easier to fit in. It is easier either to be a Democrat or a Republican. It is easier either to be a Liberal or a Conservative. It is easier either to be a Socialist or a Tory. These modes are ‘easy’ because one gains acceptance through the generalised espousal of these views. It is true that within these views there can be debate—even lively debate—but as long as one is seen to be rooted in one position, one’s acceptance can be assumed. For the person who is not defined by positions there is no easy acceptance. Such a person does not necessarily have to be a voluble gainsayer – but such a person will find that those who adhere to formulæ will not find them easy to comprehend. That is not comfortable – but it is an open condition of intelligence, which is necessarily somewhat lonely.

Let him be: clear conundrum of contradiction coruscations in the symposium of exacerbated sartorial selectivity

So that no one will be lured into devious digressions of dilapidated diurnal duration and diminished debacles.’

That is what we try to put into effect. We do not want you to waste your lives – and so we try our best to introduce you to ideas that will spark in some way with the ways in which you see your situations. Maybe some of you will be aware that we have an interest in appearances and how appearances can be manifested as rolpa in the phenomenal world. There is much joy that can be experienced in life vis-à-vis the appearances we could adopt – but they require effort. Appreciation is a demanding code of practise – but the only one that is worth following.

Let him be: marrow, lymphatic fluid, and mucus of practice, so that no one can invest in appalling melodrama

Of time spent writhing in tepidarium torture of tedious on-going experiments in dolorous domestic dreariness’

This is what we attempt to portray. We attempt to describe life as it can be lived. We attempt to be the advice we offer and to direct your attention to what we offer as part of our own practice. Ngak’chang Rinpoche has an appalling sense of balance and always has had – yet that has not held him back with regard to learning horseriding. Khandro Déchen came first in a dressage competition in April – so we display a cross-section of what is possible for those who are retarded and those who have greater capability. We both enjoy the challenges inherent in our diverse levels of skill and work with what we have in order to live as fully as possible. You could do the same before it is too late – and ‘too late’ will be here very soon, at a climate near you. It might be possible that an apprentice has died in the time it took you to read this. Someone you know may be dead at this moment and you may not know for some days. One day that will be you. You will be dead and people will be remembering you. What will they remember?

Let him be: fingernails, toenails, hair, unsightly undercarriage follicles, and nasal septum of rapturous commitment

So that no one will have to relegate sexuality of vivacious perception to boarding kennels of self contraction’

When we speak with you – we mean what we say, on the basis that we live what we convey. Because of this we expect you to listen. We expect you to listen because you are going to die – and you maybe die sooner than your imagine. You may not wish to listen and you may feel that what we have to say is simply another point of view amongst an assemblage of possible points of view – but we are dramatically committed to each word of advice we offer. We do not mind excessively when people ignore our advice, because we are not addicted to being right – or even being interesting. Our main concern is to be helpful and to be there for all of you – whatever occurs.

Let him be: blood, bone, cartilage, and gristle of indestructible mantrayana precepts, which makes it impossible

To bathe in obfuscatory offal – and interminable dismal low-threshold-pain therapy excuses for refusal to be alive,

Or to plumb the depths of moronic dependence on externalist factory-finished mechanisms of understanding.

We could all be involved in a situation that is radically powerful. We could take our practice seriously. We could take our lives seriously. Why be involved in anything that is not the very best that life has to offer. When we say ‘the very best that life has to offer’ – we do not mean: the most expensive, the most rare, or the most whatever. It is not what it is or who it is – because ultimately it is all equal. No partner is more or less attractive than any other partner – it is simply our choice that makes a person special and we need to value the choices we make. One could wear cotton socks or silk socks – it does not matter. Silk is not necessarily preferable to cotton – it is simply a matter of appreciation and having a sense of honour in terms of what we chose. We do not need to check conventional criteria for what is good and what is not so good – all that is nonsense. We simply need to value our lives and our time – and through that sense of value, to value the lives and time of others. In terms of valuing our own lives as well as the lives of others – we should not become sales representatives. We do not think there is much chance of apprentices becoming ‘dharma sales representatives’ – but they exist and it is sad to see them and their antics.

Let him be: self-lubricating multi-grinder waste disposal unit, garbage truck, and sanitary ware of the outer tantras

So that no one will need to cramp ecstatic meteorology of being in righteous rigour mortis of atrophied anorexia

It is vital not to limit what we could be, through trite habits of common conventionality. Let us refuse the pedestrian refuse we have contracted with ourselves to schlep for eternity – that which we think we ought to be according to the dictates of occluded normality protocol. We can all change – and we can all more closely resemble the non-dual being we actually are. Why not begin to say ‘yes’ to everything that occurs in the teaching situation and to grow stronger with each headlong plunge into the realm of possibility? Why not take the advice and run with it?

Let him be: the high pressure acid hose, flame thrower, heat seeking missile, and nuclear warhead of Mahayoga

So that no one will need to quantify sensual romance of presence through vain arthritic measure of mediocrity.

We would like to be effective as Lamas. We would like to be able to direct apprentices in a positive way – in order that their lives would blossom – both in terms of realisation and in terms of the sheer pleasure that it so readily available in every moment. We would like to encourage you all never to relapse into mediocrity. We would like to persuade you all never to take second best – even if you have to take second best. If you have to take second best – make it the best second best there ever was and ever will be. Celebrate your second best as the best and that is what it will be. I had to turn down a wonderful horse because he was too sharp and too sensitive for the old klutz ngakpa to ride. I will have to make do with a less sensitive less magnificent horse – but when that horse appears he will be the best horse I could ride. It is only the perception of anything that makes it second best. Maybe you will not get exactly what you want – but what you get can always be glorious if you allow it to glorious. The way for anything to be glorious is always to allow it to be what it is. As soon as you allow phenomena to be what they are – they will be glorious and you will be glorious in that perception.

Let him be: sedition soirée consultant, emotional enchantment architect, and revelation entrepreneur of Anuyoga,

So that no one will take refuge in anal retentive eternalism – and embalm pristine awareness in valetudinarianism.

On every apprentice retreat we attempt something. We try to be the emotional enchantment architects of sedition soirées – i.e. we wander around and speak with apprentices – or we simply observe in order that you will feel observed – and have some idea of how you would like to be observed. We would like to take you out: out of ‘the setting sun world’ where everything is second rate, second best, and second guessed – but people often want to stay in that realm of obscurity where they can feel safe in never being called upon to be who they are. We would like to take you out of the ‘anything goes’ atmosphere where sloppiness is the norm and where forgetfulness is acceptable as an unavoidable aspect of the human condition. The ‘setting sun’ mentality is that which gravitates toward primitivism and toward the rejection of aspects of culture which require effort. Human beings have struggled to evolve cultures and it seems that they are difficult to maintain in the face of degeneration.

Not all evolved culture is humane and so there is no sense in which such cultures can become a refuge against the setting sun mentality. Some so-called ‘higher culture’ becomes elitist to the point of fascism and bases itself on exploitation. Some study of history will provide an insight into the fact that artistry and elegance are not ends in themselves – far more is needed. Vajrayana culture provides an egalitarian answer to the question of moving beyond both primitivism and superficial aristocratic indulgence. Vajrayana allows us to evolve a culture of appreciation in which all participants can develop a natural dignity. Natural dignity is one which does not have to stand in contrast to the anything else. Natural dignity does not have to rule an uncouth plebiscite in order to be cultured and privy to artistry and elegance – one merely has to polish one’s shoes or boots. One merely has to pay attention to detail. One merely has to be unconventional.

What do we mean by that? To be unconventional does not mean that one has to be eccentric, or that one has to flout convention – it simply means that one has to chose the convention of appreciation rather than the conventions of average mass media mentality. It is conventional for men to deride women. It is conventional for women to deride men. It is unconventional to apply the mKha’ ’gro dPa bo nyi zLa me long rGyud. Conventions exist is all social circles. It is conventional for the English to be drably dressed. It is conventional for some in a certain sector of the population to dress in sports clothing. It is conventional to speak in clichés. It is conventional for some to support the Royal Family and conventional for other to be their detractors. It is unconventional to make one’s own decision based on appreciation – but this is the way that goes beyond the setting sun mentality. The expensively dressed aristocratic slob and the poorly dressed working class slob are both fixed in the setting sun mentality. It is not a question of emulating something. Both the ‘working class hero affect’ and the ‘upper class affect’ are equally degenerate from the point of view of Vajrayana. Also as degenerate are the ‘middle class affects’ – where they be ‘upper middle’, ‘middle’, ‘lower middle’ or ‘upper working’. How depressing to know that one could be categorised so specifically or that one might categorise others so specifically. Not that there is anything wrong or bad about any of the class modes. They all contain worthy attributes – and you can apply ‘deferred gratification’ without having to adopt any other ‘middle class virtue’. The problem lies in the desire to conform in order to be accepted rather than follow the nature of your appreciation. If you desire a piping hot glass of Chablis with your rhinoceros steak; by all means do just that. If you desire a Brunelo, Barolo, or Barbaresco ice-slush with your turbot or gravy with your oysters; by all means do just that – and if you relish it – order another round. Different shades of red can be worn together. Blue and green should always be seen – unless your appreciation runs in another direction. Fill you garden with gnomes and name them all after angels and archangels. Collect ‘Christmas villages’ and populate them with quaint Dickensian characters. Decorate your house in shades of lilac and pink and poise carved wooden eagles at unlikely angles in every room. Go naked on the skyline of Park Slope on cold November nights and throw orchids as passers by. Sew multi-coloured sequins on your trench coat. Wear Victorian widows’ weeds. Wear a voluminous Harris Tweed dress that looks like a coat so that people will keep offering to relieve you of it in Manhattan restaurants. Wear a rabbit skin hat to match your tightly fitted oilskin horse coat. Create a marble monument to Quentin Crisp in your front garden and put a wreath of Arum Lilies down every year on his birthday. Many of these displays have been manifested by apprentices – whilst some have not. There is no rule apart from appreciation – and appreciation is the efflorescence of wisdom and compassion via the auspices of rolpa. The natural dignity of the Vajrayanist is one of unconventional appreciation – based on the understanding of primordial egalitarianism in which all beings are beginninglessly noble.

Let him be: self-liberating jubilatory space memoranda, triumphant multifaceted clear lake mirrors of Atiyoga

So that no one has to endure the half-baked hell of stultified sanctity which encrusts wonder in warrandice.

Quite so. We stand outside the transit lounge waving – trying to tempt you out into the outside world. You packed your bags and took the flight – but now some of you sit waiting, somehow not understanding that you have arrived somewhere. Every vajra letter is an act of beckoning. Every message we send invites you to participate in the vajra world beyond the transit lounge – but it seems safe in there. The coordinates of the lavatories are known and there are snack bars where soupçons of demi-semi foodlettes can be conveniently obtained and nibbled. Maybe our books are there on the shelves and so you can read about the world outside the transit lounge.

Maybe it is too painful to move beyond the transit lounge – and that might be true. Life is pleasure and pain: we never promised it would be otherwise – but you can either have it that way, or it will simply be that way – you just won’t notice. We would like you to notice.

I love you all. I love your neuroses – just as they are. I’ll be around as long as you want me to be – if I can.

Chögyam says: When the rooster crows in the mist – the weather’ll either change, or it’ll stay as it is."