The Collected Works of Chogyam Trungpa: Volume One (9 page)

Found and Enthroned

M
Y BIRTHPLACE
was a small settlement on a high plateau of northeastern Tibet. Above it, the celebrated mountain Pagö Pünsum rises perpendicularly to more than eighteen thousand feet, and is often called “the pillar of the sky.” It looks like a tall spire; its mighty crest towers under perpetual snows, glittering in the sunshine.

Centuries before Buddhism was brought to Tibet, the followers of the Bön religion believed that Pagö Pünsum was the home of the king of spirits, and the surrounding lesser peaks were the abodes of his ministers. Myths linger on among the country folk, and these mountains have continued to be held in awe and veneration in the district.

The name of the place was Geje; it stands in a bare, treeless country without even bushes, but grass covered, and in the summer months the ground is bright with small flowers and sweet-smelling herbs whose scent in this pure air is thought to be curative; however, for the greater part of the year the whole land is under snow and it is so cold that the ice must be broken to get water. Two sorts of wild animals are peculiar to this province, the
kyang
or wild ass, and a kind of bison called a
drong;
both are found in herds of about five hundred each. The people live in tents made of yak’s hair; the more wealthy have larger ones with several partitions, situated in the center of the encampment, while the poorer peasants live on the fringes. Each village considers itself to be one large family, and in the individual family, the members from the oldest to the youngest live together and own their herds of yaks and sheep in common.

Mount Pagö Pünsum

The fire, used for all domestic purposes, is always in the middle of the tent, and the shrine is in the far right-hand corner with a butter lamp burning continually before a religious picture, or a set of the scriptures.

This northern area of East Tibet is called Nyishutsa-nga, and has twenty-five districts; the name simply means “twenty-five.” At one time it was under a king who gave the district where Geje is situated the special privilege of having its highlanders chosen for his bodyguard on account of their courage.

Geje was a small community of only about five hundred people. My father, Yeshe Dargye, owned a little land there; he met his future wife, Tungtso Drölma, when she was working for her relations, looking after the yaks and milking the females, which are called
dris
. They had one daughter, but when a second child was already in her womb he left her, and she married again, this time a much poorer man who, when the child was born, accepted him as his son.

The night of my conception my mother had a very significant dream that a being had entered her body with a flash of light; that year flowers bloomed in the neighborhood although it was still winter, to the surprise of the inhabitants.

During the New Year festival on the day of the full moon, in the Earth Hare year according to the Tibetan calendar (February 1939) I was born in the cattle byre; the birth came easily. On that day a rainbow was seen in the village, a pail supposed to contain water was unaccountably found full of milk, while several of my mother’s relations dreamt that a lama was visiting their tents. Soon afterward, a lama from Tashi Lhaphuk Monastery came to Geje; as he was giving his blessing to the people, he saw me, who at that time was a few months old; he put his hand over my head to give me a special blessing, saying that he wanted me for his monastery and that I must be kept very clean and always be carefully looked after. Both my parents agreed to this, and decided that when I grew older I should be sent to his monastery, where my mother’s uncle was a monk.

After the death in 1938 of the tenth Trungpa Tulku, the supreme abbot of Surmang, the monks at once sent a representative to His Holiness Gyalwa Karmapa, the head of the Karma Kagyü school whose monastery lay near Lhasa. Their envoy had to inform him of the death of the last abbot and to ask him if he had had any indication where his reincarnation would be found. They begged him to let them know at once should he obtain a vision.

Some months later Gyalwa Karmapa was visiting Palpung Monastery in the province of Derge in Kham, which is Tibet’s eastern region. Jamgön Kongtrül Rinpoche, who had been a devoted disciple of the tenth Trungpa Tulku and lived at Palpung, also asked him not to defer giving any possible indication, for the monks of Surmang were feeling lost without their abbot and were eager that his reincarnation should be found without delay.

A vision had in fact come to Gyalwa Karmapa, who dictated a letter to his private secretary, saying that the reincarnation of the tenth Trungpa Tulku has been born in a village five days’ journey northward from Surmang. Its name sounds like two words
Ge
and
De;
there is a family there with two children; the son is the reincarnation. It all sounded rather vague; however, the secretary and monks of the Dütsi Tel Monastery at Surmang were preparing to go in search of the few abbot when a second sealed letter was received at the monastery. Rölpa Dorje, the regent abbot of Dütsi Tel, called a meeting, opened the letter, and read it to the assembled monks. It said that Gyalwa Karmapa had had a second and much clearer vision: “The door of the family’s dwelling faces south; they own a big red dog. The father’s name is Yeshe Dargye and the mother’s Chung and Tzo; the son who is nearly a year old is Trungpa Tulku.” One senior monk and two others set off immediately to find me.

After five days’ journey they reached the village of Geje, and called on all the more important families; they made a list of the names of those parents who had children of a year old, and returned to Dütsi Tel. The list was sent to Gyalwa Karmapa, who was still at Palpung. He found that the monks had merely taken names belonging to important families and said that they must go again and make further enquiries. On receipt of this message a second party of monks was sent to the village, which in the interval had removed to higher ground and changed its name to Dekyil: This time they called on every family and made a thorough search. In one tent they found a baby boy who had a sister and, as had been written in Gyalwa Karmapa’s letter, the entrance faced south and there was a red dog. Also, the mother’s name was Bo Chung, though her family called her Tungtso Drölma; thus her name confirmed Gyalwa Karmapa’s vision, but the father’s name was different from that in the letter, and this caused a great deal of confusion; yet they looked closely at the baby, for as soon as he had seen them in the distance he waved his little hand and broke into smiles as they came in. So the monks felt that this must be the child and gave him the gifts which Gyalwa Karmapa had sent, the sacred protective cord (
sungdü
) and the traditional scarf (
khata
); this latter the baby took and hung round the monk’s neck in the prescribed way, as if he had already been taught what was the right thing to do: Delighted, the monks picked me up, for that baby was myself, and I tried to talk.

The following day the monks made a further search in another part of the village, then returned to say goodbye. As they made prostration before me, I placed my hand on their heads as if I knew that I should give them my blessing, then the monks were certain that I was the incarnation of the tenth Trungpa. They spoke to my mother asking her to tell them in confidence who had been my father. She told them that I was the son of her first husband, Yeshe Dargye, but that I had always been known as the son of my stepfather. This made everything clear to the monks, who immediately returned to Dütsi Tel. The news was taken to Gyalwa Karmapa who was sure that I, the child of Tungtso Drölma, was the eleventh Trungpa Tulku.

Gyalwa Karmapa was about to leave Palpung Monastery on a tour in which Surmang would be included, and the monks realized that if he was to perform the ceremony of my enthronement it was necessary to bring me there immediately. Kargyen, the senior secretary of Dütsi Tel, with a party of monks came to my native village of Dekyil to fetch me. He had to proclaim his mission to the whole area and to consult all the heads of the villages and the representatives of the people, since ordinarily it was expected that they would demand land or money. However, everyone was cooperative and modest and no one asked for any gain for himself. Next, my parents had to be asked if they wished to live near Surmang, or would prefer to receive property in their own village. My parents decided that they would like to be given the land on which they lived; however, they told the secretary that at some future time they would be glad of permission to visit me at Surmang.

When these things were settled we set off, with both my parents traveling in the party, for they were anxious to see Surmang. My mother stayed on in a house near Dütsi Tel in order to look after me until I was five years old, but my stepfather returned to his village.

A messenger had been sent ahead to inform Dütsi Tel when we would arrive, and a great welcome was prepared. All the monks from Surmang and many from neighboring monasteries assembled some five miles distant from Dütsi Tel to form a procession to escort me. On that day the valley was misty, and a rainbow appeared in the sky forming an arch over the procession, but as we drew near the monastery the surrounding mists dissolved, and the low clouds spread like a canopy hiding us from distant onlookers.

At the monastery everything was in festival; all the monks were rejoicing. There were special ceremonies and a great feast was arranged. I have been told that, though I was only about thirteen months old at the time, I immediately recognized those monks in whom the tenth Trungpa Tulku had placed confidence, and that I behaved with the greatest decorum throughout the day and did not even cry once.

A few days later I was put through a test; pairs of several objects were put before me, and in each case I picked out the one that had belonged to the tenth Trungpa Tulku; among them were two walking sticks and two rosaries; also, names were written on small pieces of paper and when I was asked which piece had his name on it, I chose the right one. Now the monks were certain that I was the incarnation, so a letter was sent to Gyalwa Karmapa telling him the results of the examination and inviting him to officiate at my enthronement ceremony.

Every morning my mother brought me to the monastery and took me home with her in the evening. My earliest memory is being in a room with several monks who were talking to me, and I was answering them. I was told later that my first words were “
OM MANI PADME HUM
”; probably, I did not say them very correctly. When lamas came to visit me, I have been told that I used to clutch at their rosaries and try to imitate them. Every day that month, I held an audience and received visits from the friends and disciples of my past incarnation who took a great interest in me, and I always seemed to enjoy meeting people.

At the end of the month my enthronement ceremony was to take place, and so I was taken to the larger monastery of Namgyal Tse. This time, instead of the joyous informality with which I had been welcomed at Dütsi Tel, a procession came to escort me and everything was done with pomp and ceremony.

Gyalwa Karmapa arrived with some senior lamas from Palpung; other people came from all parts of East Tibet: About one thousand Surmang monks and twelve thousand other monks and laity finally assembled. My monks were delighted, for this enthronement was to be one of the largest in living memory. There were several incarnate lamas already at Surmang including Garwang Tulku the regent abbot of Namgyal Tse. Rölpa Dorje the regent abbot of Dütsi Tel was appointed to act as my sponsor and give my responses at the enthronement. Both were regent abbots of their respective monasteries in the interregnum after the death of the tenth Trungpa and during my minority, and they remained so later when I was absent from Surmang.

Rölpa Dorje Rinpoche was the fifth incarnation of the great Rölpa Dorje, a contemporary of the fifth Trungpa Tulku, and he had been the teacher of Tai Situ Chökyi Jungne in the early part of the eighteenth century; the latter was the second most important lama in the Karma Kagyü school;
Tai Situ
is a Chinese title. He had written many scholarly works and had revived the pictorial art of the “Gardri school.” His teaching had been widely disseminated in Tibet, China, and India.

My enthronement took place in the large assembly hall. The lion throne (
seng tri
), on which all
tulkus
are traditionally enthroned, stood at the farther end of the hall on a dais. It was made of gilt wood, square in shape, with white lions carved on the sides which appeared to be supporting it. On the throne there were three cushions, red, yellow, and blue, covered with two strips of brocade. A table was placed in front of it with all my seals of office. I was carried up the hall by the senior secretary of Dütsi Tel, escorted by a procession of the higher dignitaries. Rölpa Dorje Rinpoche stood at the foot of the throne, and my secretary handed me to him; he then mounted the dais and sat down in my place holding me on his lap and gave all the responses which should have come from me.