I hope my descriptions of Tsegyalgar West have conveyed the strong connection I made with the place and people of this Gar in the far West. I hope to inspire others to make the long journey to Baja California to visit and take advantage of the unique opportunities the Land of the Supreme Peak gives for personal retreat.
It is not a good idea, or productive, to dwell publicly on the content of one’s meditational experiences, so I will not do so. In fact, as all the great yogis and yoginis inform us, it is not possible to describe them, as we do not have words to convey their nature. So I shall follow the example of the great Tibetan saint Milarepa (sadly without his literary genius) to try to give a final sense of my Baja experience in a poem instead:
Zing Zing Zing
our Master
dreamed you into being
a Western stranger
recognising a Master from the East
gave this place,
dream seen by the dream Master
long before
their meeting in the waking West
land of cicada sound,
vultures slide slowly down an unseen
helter skelter in the sky,
pool frogs croak
green balloons froggily exploding the stillness
making me giggle
too rude, just yet, for infinity
from the beginning
The Land of the Supreme Peak
exists between waking and dreaming
a vanishing point for the passions
where the mountains are Masters
and Dakinis dance in the dust motes
because of your blessings
Compassion and Wisdom,
undreamed of in day to day me,
open up in my heart
suddenly waking up Me
When I shine
Your dark sky mirror reflects my mind sparkle
When I toss like your palms in a storm
Your peaks squat around me
A strong circle of silence,
Their shining ring cradles me
Blue sky dome contains me
‘til calm dawns again
magical land
singing bowl of sierras
support me, as I struggle with all my strength
just to Sit Still
in a supremely empty land
I am never alone
the strangest things
dance in my heart
Gurus arrive, unexpectedly,
Dakinis, previously unsuspected
queen it on rock pillars
in the arroyo of my mind
from a ring of fire
the moon shines full circle
on boulders polished white and round as skulls
white light in the heart
white light in the heart
but brightness births shadow life
dark things too
flapping and dragging on the edge of my vision
more sinister while
I can’t see them clearly
dirty fabricated demons, black fabric flaps in a wind that isn’t
they dance and dip along the river beach
among the skulls and boulders
nothing but the appalling fabric of me
lured out into the forensic sunlight
by this unusual place and time,
out of the mind caves where they usually hide
nothing but shadows
but dancing none the less
scaring a solitary rock-sitter half out of her wits
black bat mind shadows merely
but momentarily mistaking them
for real things
fear grows as big as the boulder I sit on
as solid and unshiftable as rock
Gurus and Guardians
Protect me!
A phurba is pointing
at my own heart
and the brighter the dawning
the blacker the bats that fly out of their caves
insidious flitting and flapping
distracting me
capsizing my calm
Gurus and Guardians
Protect me!
remember
remember
so hard to remember through a miasma of terror
“This is just your mind and Nothing
but your mind”
just for an instant
energy explodes
atomic flash
myself
is not
and fear
is not
What is?
Zing zing zing
The person that arrived was not the person that left.
Thank you, Tsegyalgar, for being amazing. Zing, zing, zing.
Thank you, Latinas, for teaching me the Spanish for
“Donald Trump is not a good man. I don’t like him. I come from England, not America” Essential vocabulary for a Mexican trip in the circumstances of Now.
Thank you, Veronica, for unfailing ground support when things got pretty airy. Also, stories from the Zen Monastery. Also, essential local knowledge about scorpions, rattlesnakes, kitchen hogs and the Macho mind.
Thank you, Lol, for lifting a burden of impatience and frustration by simply pointing out, again, that the path to Dzogchen is gradual, although the arrival never is. Also, for fearless driving over roots and ruts. Also for beans.
Thank you Rinpoche, for dreaming this place into being and for Great Blessings.
The donation structure for the Gar has completely changed this year, making it even more affordable for personal retreat. Check out:
Dear Jane, I enjoyed your blog enormously. It was great reading about your retreat experience, the land in Mexico and the folk you met there. As a fan of the artist Frieda Khalo, who in her art expressed the magic of the desert, I thought your writing also seemed to reflect something of that dreamlike magic. I agree, too, about taking the opportunity to do a personal retreat there while in good health, as in poor health it is not so easy to travel.
It sounded literally marvellous.
Elizabeth
I am so glad you connected with Baja. I wanted to visit the Frieda Khalo Casa Azul in Mexico City but didn’t quite have the nerve to get there… This time I am going via US so no opportunity this time. I was so sorry to hear you were not well enough to dance nowadays but we can always practise the important things internally, wherever we are and whatever our outward circumstances. We are so lucky. See you sometime in Totnes I hope
Love Jane