Shortly after I moved to a beautiful place to start a new life after tragedy, my spiritual teacher, Drupon, died.
I hadn’t seen him since before the pandemic, and when I heard the news of his death, it felt like the ground beneath me was removed. He had been my teacher for over 20 years. In this chaotic world, simply knowing that he was alive and that I was connected to him was enough to sustain my sanity regardless of what I encountered.
Once as I was preparing to leave Drupon’s house, he handed me a sandwich that he had made me for my journey home. I bowed to him, and he took my hand against his cheek. My knees fell to the floor. I felt the sweetest energy envelope my being, and it followed me throughout my journey home. Even though that journey home was anything but peaceful.
My airplane hit a big bird, and we had to make an emergency landing in Colorado. And just as I was wondering if I’d be able to find a place to stay for the night, I was put up in a beautiful hotel. As I walked down the hallway to my room, I noticed mandalas on the carpeting of the hallway. I had a sense that, no matter what happened, Drupon’s envelope of peace would be there surrounding me.
Now with a new name and a new life, I couldn’t imagine starting a new journey without him. But I had forgotten that life and death are not that simple. After my teacher’s death, I had a phone conversation with my spirit sister, and we were exchanging his stories and teachings.
Drupon had a remarkable way of teaching thorough mundane experience. I remember once when I was cooking dinner in his kitchen, I noticed that he had no labels on his spice containers. I was looking for specific spices for the soup that I was making, and I was struggling to find them. Drupon came into the kitchen, and I told him of my dilemma.
“Is this coriander?” I asked.
“Maybe,” he said. “But either way it seems like it would be good in soup.”
My spirit sister shared some teachings that I had not heard before. These teachings were perfect for the moment of time that I was currently in, and I started to realize that Drupon was still alive through my spirit sister and others that he touched.
Drupon spent hours outside, taking care of the gardens, planting trees, and observing life with curiosity. Many of his teachings happened in those gardens. Sometimes while enjoying mango smoothies and Doritos.
My spirit sister spoke of a teaching she once received from Drupon called “going into the beauty.” Rinpoche told her that it was important for everyone, but particularly trauma survivors, to spend time “going into the beauty.”
To practice this teaching in my new place, I carefully observed the plants, animals and insects that live in my new surroundings; appreciating the beautiful detail and genius in how they were designed to fulfill their purpose and their larger place in a greater ecosystem. I was in awe of their resilience and adaptation through the many years of environmental changes and human impacts.
Trees have modified their DNA to adapt to environmental and human impacts, and they are able to communicate with each other through their root systems and by emitting distress chemicals. And mullein, a medicinal plant, grows at the edges of the forest or where there has been forest destruction.
Cowbirds will lay their eggs in the nests of other birds and force them to hatch and raise their young, while doves never leave their eggs alone in the nest, switching watch hours between father and mother. One uses bullying and the other uses collaboration to survive.
The tiny frogs in the forest are absolutely magical, and the pond frog songs sound especially sweet during the springtime.
Lilacs, one of my favorite flowers, bloom for only two weeks in which they release a wonderful fragrance. What a shame it would be to miss enjoying them in that small window of time!
There are cicadas that live underground for over 10 years, only to come to the surface for a month to mate before perishing.
What would you do if you only had one month to live above ground? How would you live your life differently?
We likely wouldn’t be waiting for “someday” to do something important to us, nor would we take for granted the simple sunshine or every beautiful breath that we are able to take.
May we always make room in our lives for going into the beauty. It doesn’t cost anything, and the beauty will save our spirits even in the most dire of circumstances.
In closing, I will leave you with one of my favorite poems by Ngak’ chang Rinpoche.
If you were to fall to your death from a very great height
It would be a shame not to enjoy the view as you fell
Or to fail to appreciate the wind in your hair
And the warmth of the sun on your face
To experience the raw voltage of being alive
Requires that we learn to lick honey from the razor's edge
©Cardinal Speaks