The Kudung of Mipham Rinpoche, the great, the father of Karmapa and a Lama of incredible power, coming up the stairs in KIBI brings back memories sharp and clean - Shamarpa was the same.
Held high by his closest students, through the mist and fog of early morning, a cold December in Delhi. Flying down the highway with police cars guiding the way, sirens ringing in my ears. Bobbing two and fro in alleys and crowded streets, lines of monks and ceremonial clothing, banging drums and horns as we approach. The crowd, the sway, the mist and fog. The grey and dark so beautiful, lit by early morning light.
Perhaps it’s because I haven’t slept in two days, on a five day turnaround to Europe and back, my head spinning from jet lag and time zone confusion. Perhaps seeing Karmapa so touched has left us all reeling in some way, my heart goes out to him in this time. Even if he doesn’t need it, I wish it all the same. Perhaps it’s the fact that I was considering not to come, overwhelmed from the last tour, my warm home pleading for my presence, my family waiting. But how could I not come? How could I not be here for this, a historic moment of epic proportions. In barest terms, this is what I do, be there. Get there by any means necessary, at that moment in time, standing ready for whatever comes. I am always there if called upon. There is beauty in the lack of control, simple and clean.
These photos make me cry, for love and loss, for history and the lineage. Impermanence is everything these days. Our eldest are leaving us, too fast to keep up. There is beauty in loss as well, a door closing brings another opening ever wider. Longing does indeed light the fire of the heart. For love, for loss, for history. There is beauty in the dark and grey, lit by by morning light.
KIBI - Karmapa International Buddhist Institute
