I went to the Tibetan temple, talked to the monk.
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I went to the Tibetan temple, talked to the monk.
TMC in Frederick, MD. Talked to a Khenpo Sultrim. I hope I didn't creep him out or seem like a burden.
I'm too busy to share all the details and I consider our discussion to have been private, even though I'm not a student of Tibetan Buddhism. However, I will share my favorite part, because somebody asked me to share.
I told him about how I feel restless sometimes, with the big ball of energy in my stomach that's so uncomfortable.
He asked, puzzled, "Why is it uncomfortable?"
I smiled and nodded, "I understand."
What was it that I understood? Well... You'll have to figure that out yourself.
Anyway, now I feel awesome. I think the tea helped too.
I'm too busy to share all the details and I consider our discussion to have been private, even though I'm not a student of Tibetan Buddhism. However, I will share my favorite part, because somebody asked me to share.
I told him about how I feel restless sometimes, with the big ball of energy in my stomach that's so uncomfortable.
He asked, puzzled, "Why is it uncomfortable?"
I smiled and nodded, "I understand."
What was it that I understood? Well... You'll have to figure that out yourself.
Anyway, now I feel awesome. I think the tea helped too.
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Re: I went to the Tibetan temple, talked to the monk.
I did ask him the question about learning the esoteric stuff without samaya.
Forget what he said. I did get a useful impression about it, though, but the impression I got is useful for me and would not be useful for others.
Forget what he said. I did get a useful impression about it, though, but the impression I got is useful for me and would not be useful for others.
Re: I went to the Tibetan temple, talked to the monk.
Good. Approaching an authentic teacher is a crucial part of the practice.
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Re: I went to the Tibetan temple, talked to the monk.
That's true, venerable Huifeng.Huifeng wrote:Good. Approaching an authentic teacher is a crucial part of the practice.
However, it was only through approaching my self, my only true teacher, that I ever got there in the first place. And it was only through staying with my self continuously that I did not become obsessed and make false promises of samaya, because I deludedly thought he was a "holy person" and wanted him to make me a "holy person."
And besides, what if you try to approach a genuine teacher you respect... say, by asking them to add you on Facebook, but then they don't add you, because they see a profile picture of a thug with a middle finger and they get freaked out?
Often, what appear to be good teachers are actually demons and liars, and what appear to be fools are actually angels in disguise. You cannot judge based solely on the appearance of things. That's basic Buddhism, isn't it? If it isn't, it should be.
Re: I went to the Tibetan temple, talked to the monk.
are you going back?
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Re: I went to the Tibetan temple, talked to the monk.
I told him I could, but I didn't say when. I'm not going to go back week after week. I'll go when I feel like it.Heruka wrote:are you going back?
There's no point in going if I don't feel like it or don't have particular questions. And it's a long drive... And I could pretty easily bother them and waste my time there.
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Re: I went to the Tibetan temple, talked to the monk.
If you're not a student of Tibetan Buddhism, why are you pestering hardworking lamas with your problems?
I'm just askin'...
Chris
I'm just askin'...
Chris
"All the sublime teachings, so profound--to throw away one and then grab yet another will not bear even a single fruit. Persevere, therefore, in simply one."
--Dudjom Rinpoche, "Nectar for the Hearts of Fortunate Disciples. Song No. 8"
--Dudjom Rinpoche, "Nectar for the Hearts of Fortunate Disciples. Song No. 8"
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Re: I went to the Tibetan temple, talked to the monk.
If he said I was a pest, I would have left.Silent Bob wrote:If you're not a student of Tibetan Buddhism, why are you pestering hardworking lamas with your problems?
I'm just askin'...
Chris
Re: I went to the Tibetan temple, talked to the monk.
Since the Lama didn't....may your good karma manifestIf he said I was a pest, I would have left.If you're not a student of Tibetan Buddhism, why are you pestering hardworking lamas with your problems?
I'm just askin'...
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Re: I went to the Tibetan temple, talked to the monk.
Not necessarily, because what if I am actually a really, really powerful and clever demon? Or I'm controlled by one?plwk wrote:Since the Lama didn't....may your good karma manifestIndividual wrote:If he said I was a pest, I would have left.Silent Bob wrote:If you're not a student of Tibetan Buddhism, why are you pestering hardworking lamas with your problems?
I'm just askin'...
Chris
Lying to myself, practicing Buddhism, seeming clever, gaining spiritual power, etc., all for the sake of stealing the secrets of Tibetan Buddhism.
Hmm. No, that's not true. Or it could be. No self to call Buddha or Mara. No -- I am Buddha and I am Mara both. Buddha-nature wrestling with Mara-nature. Or something else?
As I see it, no need for sexual yoga or any such esoteric nonsense. It all comes down to how I treat my sick and dying mother. If I treat her well, Buddhahood is guaranteed -- or at least advancement in the stage of bodhisattva. That is why I chose her.
I am rambling incoherently.
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Re: I went to the Tibetan temple, talked to the monk.
I put pennies in the donation box while crying, forgetting I had cash in my wallet. That's what made him come out. On a certain sense, I did feel like I was being manipulative. It feels that way sometimes, but it is buried very deep to the point that this human is not even consciously aware much of the time.
As I entered the monastery, I felt terrified... And I thought, "Why am I terrified? This is a holy place."
It is only evil beings that are terrified of holy places.
And the monk needs to clean the tea-cup because to put it euphemistically these lips might be diseased. These words certainly are sometimes.
After this one left, this one realized this and felt embarrassed and horrified. But... This one buried that terror and had a delightful trip home.
Thinking about it again now, there is worry.
Hey, look. Talking like Jhanananda. I am crazy, hmmmm?
As I entered the monastery, I felt terrified... And I thought, "Why am I terrified? This is a holy place."
It is only evil beings that are terrified of holy places.
And the monk needs to clean the tea-cup because to put it euphemistically these lips might be diseased. These words certainly are sometimes.
After this one left, this one realized this and felt embarrassed and horrified. But... This one buried that terror and had a delightful trip home.
Thinking about it again now, there is worry.
Hey, look. Talking like Jhanananda. I am crazy, hmmmm?
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Re: I went to the Tibetan temple, talked to the monk.
Buddha: Please don't let me end up like Jim Jones or Charles Manson.
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Re: I went to the Tibetan temple, talked to the monk.
When I look at this body in the mirror, I only see a doll or a puppet, but I had an odd experience.
I looked at a picture of a wrathful Buddha on the wall... It reminded me of a vision I had of a wrathful Buddha several days ago. Can't explain it in words -- the visualization is far scarier than the picture.
Looking into the blue eyes of the wrathful Buddha, I saw myself. But this body's eyes are brown.
I am an example of how Buddhism improperly understood makes people crazy.
Not crazy... Evil. Because crazy people are those who are stuck in mental hospitals or on the street, mumbling. I am free -- to be coherent... Free to do whatever it is I want to do, with enough time.
Bodhicitta is what keeps me from spinning out of control, violently.
I looked at a picture of a wrathful Buddha on the wall... It reminded me of a vision I had of a wrathful Buddha several days ago. Can't explain it in words -- the visualization is far scarier than the picture.
Looking into the blue eyes of the wrathful Buddha, I saw myself. But this body's eyes are brown.
I am an example of how Buddhism improperly understood makes people crazy.
Not crazy... Evil. Because crazy people are those who are stuck in mental hospitals or on the street, mumbling. I am free -- to be coherent... Free to do whatever it is I want to do, with enough time.
Bodhicitta is what keeps me from spinning out of control, violently.
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Re: I went to the Tibetan temple, talked to the monk.
Please disregard the above. Do not be concerned. I am better now.
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Re: I went to the Tibetan temple, talked to the monk.
Please forgive the above. I can't take back what I already said and I know how it will look.
Venerable Huifeng asked me in a private message a long time ago, "Is there morality?"
Today I did the more good deeds than in any day that I can ever remember. I gave 17 pennies to a Tibetan monastery, had a polite dhamma talk afterwards. I gave my friend some lego toys that I could've sold for a couple hundred bucks. Pulling them out, I even second-guessed myself but still, a second time, I renounced them. I didn't use drugs and refused to drive a person to get drugs. I exercised quite a bit, but not so much that I damaged my joints. I ate moderately a diet of mostly fresh fruit and water. I spent much of the day reading and discussing dhamma. I said hello to a random stranger on the street (something I've never done before -- honestly, you don't do it in urban areas).
I made my mom my main priority over everything else -- even dhamma discussion and even talking to a girl I love. On my hands and feet for her, I am exhausted. Massaging my mom's body, moving her limbs, feeding her... I think I performed a miracle today and saved her from death. By death, I mean myself. I even made her a milk-shake.
And I sorted my clothes -- something I've put off for years...
And mom just said, "You're a wonderful son. I love you."
She's never expressed this much love for me before, ever.
We have a lottery ticket... My first one ever... It was her idea. I am actually scared we will win because then my mom would leave this world, because she only clings to life for my sake. And money would destroy me.
And so... What? What does this mean?
I do good deeds, people love me, I get money, and women... And then what? Then I get to **** the world up.
Nobody ever said the wheel-turning monarch was a good guy. Me: Your next Hitler. Wait and see.
No? That's grandiose nonsense? Wait and see.
Venerable Huifeng asked me in a private message a long time ago, "Is there morality?"
Today I did the more good deeds than in any day that I can ever remember. I gave 17 pennies to a Tibetan monastery, had a polite dhamma talk afterwards. I gave my friend some lego toys that I could've sold for a couple hundred bucks. Pulling them out, I even second-guessed myself but still, a second time, I renounced them. I didn't use drugs and refused to drive a person to get drugs. I exercised quite a bit, but not so much that I damaged my joints. I ate moderately a diet of mostly fresh fruit and water. I spent much of the day reading and discussing dhamma. I said hello to a random stranger on the street (something I've never done before -- honestly, you don't do it in urban areas).
I made my mom my main priority over everything else -- even dhamma discussion and even talking to a girl I love. On my hands and feet for her, I am exhausted. Massaging my mom's body, moving her limbs, feeding her... I think I performed a miracle today and saved her from death. By death, I mean myself. I even made her a milk-shake.
And I sorted my clothes -- something I've put off for years...
And mom just said, "You're a wonderful son. I love you."
She's never expressed this much love for me before, ever.
We have a lottery ticket... My first one ever... It was her idea. I am actually scared we will win because then my mom would leave this world, because she only clings to life for my sake. And money would destroy me.
And so... What? What does this mean?
I do good deeds, people love me, I get money, and women... And then what? Then I get to **** the world up.
Nobody ever said the wheel-turning monarch was a good guy. Me: Your next Hitler. Wait and see.
No? That's grandiose nonsense? Wait and see.
Re: I went to the Tibetan temple, talked to the monk.
Perhaps the mindfulness taught by the Buddha may be helpful?
Satipatthana Sutta:Frames of Reference
May foster some conducive sort of sobriety more efficiently than the outer and esoteric aspects of tibetan buddhism which tend instill additional disturbances into the mind due to their being very colorful and imaginative.
Kind regards
Satipatthana Sutta:Frames of Reference
May foster some conducive sort of sobriety more efficiently than the outer and esoteric aspects of tibetan buddhism which tend instill additional disturbances into the mind due to their being very colorful and imaginative.
Kind regards
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Re: I went to the Tibetan temple, talked to the monk.
Thank you, TMingyur.
Re: I went to the Tibetan temple, talked to the monk.
Mind-movie producer by the sensory objects, and see how identities like "spiderman" and evil ones arise by our fiction.
We can lose time or get a light through the woods of our illusions.
Good lesson here! Thank you.
We can lose time or get a light through the woods of our illusions.
Good lesson here! Thank you.
“We are each living in our own soap opera. We do not see things as they really are. We see only our interpretations. This is because our minds are always so busy...But when the mind calms down, it becomes clear. This mental clarity enables us to see things as they really are, instead of projecting our commentary on everything.” Jetsunma Tenzin Palmo.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6bg9jOYnEUA
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6bg9jOYnEUA
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Re: I went to the Tibetan temple, talked to the monk.
I asked that this thread be deleted, but the moderator asked that I consider it. I was going to reply to this with a PM, but I thought it would be better that I post it here.
Also, it's funny you mention the blog because I had considered one... Funny how that keeps happening... I think, then... it happens again... I don't mention it whenever it happens. I'm just pleasantly surprised by it. I know it's like the textbook definition of crazy, but... honestly... With a blog, it might be easier to understand. Years earlier, other people told me I should have a blog... They were evil people, but there was one man who scared me because privately, he told me things about my personal life that he could not have known. He was a computer genius, so I thought maybe somehow he did it through hacking, but that seemed just as crazy... It does feel sometimes like angels speak to me through human beings -- in a good way... To teach me dharma and help me along the way... I have been so lucky, so close to dying so many times -- even though I have almost no injuries and no criminal record.
Oh... The thing I wanted to share in this thread... I'm sorry if I am so self-absorbed in the story of my own life.
But it's relevant: I once knew a Panamanian girl (another girl I loved) who was the same way or similar. I wish I knew where she was now, because she might be able to help me through this. A moment ago, the thought occurred, "She is dead. She is Mara." Is that true, I wonder?
When I knew her, she was two personalities: Diana (her real name? also, right now, my favorite greek goddess) and Morgan Black (I believe she got the morgan part from the rum company). Diana was a pretty normal girl, like any other human being, kind and a bit insecure, just wanting to be happy. Morgan Black, however, was a vicious, sadistic criminal who enjoyed hurting people in any she could. Morgan Black was also British, despite the fact that Diana was Panamanian. Morgan Black was sadistic in the fullest sense of the word -- she, too, believed that she was the devil. And for a while, I believed her. I wrote a song, dedicated to her -- the devil -- but years later, I re-dedicated the song to the dharma. It's a very simple song with four parts -- four parts, without beginning or end. So simple, but so deeply meaningful. I have had daydreams of playing this song as a spirit and also of playing it as an enlightened human. Originally, it was a song about how I loved the devil and she was so beautiful, but when I re-dedicated it, each part became about the Four Noble Truths, repeated again and again, forever and ever and ever. The melody of the words became a non-vocalized melody ... I think... Diana is sad... to hear me share this... Or maybe I'm just crazy and I'm the kind of person who cries for no reason sometimes. Or maybe I just miss her? Or I'm moody? She was moody.
Anyway... Morgan Black's father was a Panamanian drug lord. I only knew the girl over the internet, so it's possible she was lying, but in the context, I saw no reason to disbelieve her. She once sent photos of herself cutting herself, carving the word, "Fat," into her body... Also, although Morgan was OK with her father, Diana was a bit terrified of him. Her father apparently was very odd, locking himself in his room when he would enter the house, he collected nazi memorabilia (Morgan Black became obsessed with Nazi stuff too)... One time, she even claimed he forced her to eat human meat. The other thing too worth mentioning was how Morgan Black appeared. Diana became Morgan Black whenever she was put under stress, like when you upset her. Diana was also a bit insecure about sexuality (whereas Morgan Black, by contrast, was a femme fatale). When Diana got into sexual situations, Morgan Black came out more often than not. I had something else important to remember -- I forgot it which usually makes me think it wasn't important but in this case I think it was, but... oh well.
Oh, I just remembered! Me and the girl Diana used to have sort of a thing going. To put it euphemistically, we had "intimate" moments over the phone. Little did I know that calling Panama at that time was expensive, and my parents ended up with a $4,000 phone bill. Also, one time I bought Diana some clothes... I ordered them from the internet, but it was also from a store that was local. My friends stole them from my doorstep, then returned them to a store for a gift card. They couldn't get money (because without a receipt, it could've been a theft -- which it was). These same friends brought me that gift card and tried to sell it to me for money (for a discount, they said!). I didn't have any money at that time, so they got nothing. That girl, Diana, was so much trouble for me... It didn't hurt as much as the girl after her, but that's another story.
Anyway, the only difference between me and Diana\Morgan is the degree of our sickness and the degree of our virtues. When Diana was taken hold of by the evil one, she lost consciousness and memory. Whereas with me, they are merely spontaneous fits of massive rage over pretty arbitrary stuff (anger is always silly and unnecessary, I know) in which I do have awareness, and do have the ability to come down but they don't feel like my own... And I have vowed to not let the fire grow. I've never hit my mom but once, I threw something at her, almost hitting her. After that moment, I realized what a monster it was and vowed at the very least that I would not throw things in anger, because that's what leads to hitting. I suppose I should also vow to not be violent with inanimate objects either because that leads to violence with animate objects.
Please... Don't let me get my own Morgan Black. I feel like taking samaya merely out of fear, to subdue these feelings. But I know that's not right.
Gautama once had his own meditation teachers. He learned everything they did, then he left. I do not think they were happy when he left them initially because they thought he was arrogant? Right? He was forsaking their teachers? But these teachers were happy upon having him return, seeing him shine and glow. I wish I could shine and glow like that and be awake like that, but without having to forsake the enjoyment of sensual desire too. But a moment ago, I had the thought, as I had in the past, "What if these Tibetan masters are merely devils?" That might explain my fear upon entering the Tibetan monasteries.
When you think about it, early Buddhism was about simply avoiding committing immoral acts and being happy with that. That seems so great. Tibetans' claiming that we should use fetters for positive change and magic ritual... It seems kinda like early Buddhism was a Jedi practice and Tibetan Buddhism is a Sith practice. Look into the Star Wars stuff. That's exactly what Jedi and Sith are.
Sith have to change things by force and they use dark energies. Jedi simply let things be and go with the flow of things, never touching dark energy because they know that although flames can perhaps be used to warm the house, cook, and cauterize wounds, there are some flames which can only cause pain when used.
Not my thoughts... the evil one's.Yeshe wrote: I know you tend to pour out your thoughts and sometimes regret it, so maybe its worth typing them into a blog rather than a thread, and then when you revisit it, paste over the questions you need to ask or the info you want to share.
That way you keep total control over what appears.
Also, it's funny you mention the blog because I had considered one... Funny how that keeps happening... I think, then... it happens again... I don't mention it whenever it happens. I'm just pleasantly surprised by it. I know it's like the textbook definition of crazy, but... honestly... With a blog, it might be easier to understand. Years earlier, other people told me I should have a blog... They were evil people, but there was one man who scared me because privately, he told me things about my personal life that he could not have known. He was a computer genius, so I thought maybe somehow he did it through hacking, but that seemed just as crazy... It does feel sometimes like angels speak to me through human beings -- in a good way... To teach me dharma and help me along the way... I have been so lucky, so close to dying so many times -- even though I have almost no injuries and no criminal record.
Oh... The thing I wanted to share in this thread... I'm sorry if I am so self-absorbed in the story of my own life.
But it's relevant: I once knew a Panamanian girl (another girl I loved) who was the same way or similar. I wish I knew where she was now, because she might be able to help me through this. A moment ago, the thought occurred, "She is dead. She is Mara." Is that true, I wonder?
When I knew her, she was two personalities: Diana (her real name? also, right now, my favorite greek goddess) and Morgan Black (I believe she got the morgan part from the rum company). Diana was a pretty normal girl, like any other human being, kind and a bit insecure, just wanting to be happy. Morgan Black, however, was a vicious, sadistic criminal who enjoyed hurting people in any she could. Morgan Black was also British, despite the fact that Diana was Panamanian. Morgan Black was sadistic in the fullest sense of the word -- she, too, believed that she was the devil. And for a while, I believed her. I wrote a song, dedicated to her -- the devil -- but years later, I re-dedicated the song to the dharma. It's a very simple song with four parts -- four parts, without beginning or end. So simple, but so deeply meaningful. I have had daydreams of playing this song as a spirit and also of playing it as an enlightened human. Originally, it was a song about how I loved the devil and she was so beautiful, but when I re-dedicated it, each part became about the Four Noble Truths, repeated again and again, forever and ever and ever. The melody of the words became a non-vocalized melody ... I think... Diana is sad... to hear me share this... Or maybe I'm just crazy and I'm the kind of person who cries for no reason sometimes. Or maybe I just miss her? Or I'm moody? She was moody.
Anyway... Morgan Black's father was a Panamanian drug lord. I only knew the girl over the internet, so it's possible she was lying, but in the context, I saw no reason to disbelieve her. She once sent photos of herself cutting herself, carving the word, "Fat," into her body... Also, although Morgan was OK with her father, Diana was a bit terrified of him. Her father apparently was very odd, locking himself in his room when he would enter the house, he collected nazi memorabilia (Morgan Black became obsessed with Nazi stuff too)... One time, she even claimed he forced her to eat human meat. The other thing too worth mentioning was how Morgan Black appeared. Diana became Morgan Black whenever she was put under stress, like when you upset her. Diana was also a bit insecure about sexuality (whereas Morgan Black, by contrast, was a femme fatale). When Diana got into sexual situations, Morgan Black came out more often than not. I had something else important to remember -- I forgot it which usually makes me think it wasn't important but in this case I think it was, but... oh well.
Oh, I just remembered! Me and the girl Diana used to have sort of a thing going. To put it euphemistically, we had "intimate" moments over the phone. Little did I know that calling Panama at that time was expensive, and my parents ended up with a $4,000 phone bill. Also, one time I bought Diana some clothes... I ordered them from the internet, but it was also from a store that was local. My friends stole them from my doorstep, then returned them to a store for a gift card. They couldn't get money (because without a receipt, it could've been a theft -- which it was). These same friends brought me that gift card and tried to sell it to me for money (for a discount, they said!). I didn't have any money at that time, so they got nothing. That girl, Diana, was so much trouble for me... It didn't hurt as much as the girl after her, but that's another story.
Anyway, the only difference between me and Diana\Morgan is the degree of our sickness and the degree of our virtues. When Diana was taken hold of by the evil one, she lost consciousness and memory. Whereas with me, they are merely spontaneous fits of massive rage over pretty arbitrary stuff (anger is always silly and unnecessary, I know) in which I do have awareness, and do have the ability to come down but they don't feel like my own... And I have vowed to not let the fire grow. I've never hit my mom but once, I threw something at her, almost hitting her. After that moment, I realized what a monster it was and vowed at the very least that I would not throw things in anger, because that's what leads to hitting. I suppose I should also vow to not be violent with inanimate objects either because that leads to violence with animate objects.
Please... Don't let me get my own Morgan Black. I feel like taking samaya merely out of fear, to subdue these feelings. But I know that's not right.
Gautama once had his own meditation teachers. He learned everything they did, then he left. I do not think they were happy when he left them initially because they thought he was arrogant? Right? He was forsaking their teachers? But these teachers were happy upon having him return, seeing him shine and glow. I wish I could shine and glow like that and be awake like that, but without having to forsake the enjoyment of sensual desire too. But a moment ago, I had the thought, as I had in the past, "What if these Tibetan masters are merely devils?" That might explain my fear upon entering the Tibetan monasteries.
When you think about it, early Buddhism was about simply avoiding committing immoral acts and being happy with that. That seems so great. Tibetans' claiming that we should use fetters for positive change and magic ritual... It seems kinda like early Buddhism was a Jedi practice and Tibetan Buddhism is a Sith practice. Look into the Star Wars stuff. That's exactly what Jedi and Sith are.
Sith have to change things by force and they use dark energies. Jedi simply let things be and go with the flow of things, never touching dark energy because they know that although flames can perhaps be used to warm the house, cook, and cauterize wounds, there are some flames which can only cause pain when used.