by Thomas Shor
It is said that Padmasambhava himself blessed the place. In those days one had to walk to Tashiding, skirting cliffs and fording rivers on footbridges through a spectacular landscape. Tulshuk Lingpa describes his meditation upon their arrival:
I had all round a feeling of total peace and happiness. This sense of utter happiness transformed itself into great compassion and the spontaneous manifestation of happiness. Towards the beings of the six realms and those of the present time, I developed an irresistible feeling of compassion. In such a mood—through my deep contemplation—whatever sights and sounds I experienced were turned into the body, speech and mind of Chenresig, the Buddha of Compassion. After getting up from this meditation, I offered prayers and benedictions in order to expand and maintain the clear light of sleep.
That evening I was visited by various khandros, one of whom made many extraordinary forecasts; another gave me books containing secret oral instructions as well as secret predictions and percepts.
Two days later, in the morning, Tulshuk Lingpa explored the area to ‘find out whether the place possessed any auspicious signs and marks’.
I offered prayers to the divine master of the place, and made an extensive examination of the whole area. Several signs and marks indicated auspicious and happy tidings. Being happy and cheerful, I offered the following words of praise, ‘Oh! Most wonderful is this place, Demojong, wonderful is the way of its formation. It is something like the blossoming of the broad leaf of the blue lotus.’
There are five large caves of Guru Padmasambhava. The white and red rivers flowing together towards the south are a sign of the obtaining of Buddhahood by some living in the southern areas. The rainbow and the cloud rising up majestically are the signs of welcome by the astral guides and messengers. The turquoise-colored hills and valleys are decorated with auspicious trees and plants. On the precious rocky mountains flowers and fruits hang their heads low, filled with nectar-like water; their sweet scents are carried by the winds. With the sacrificial clouds appearing as domes standing over things offered during a ceremony and the endless congregation of strong-hearted dakinis, I cannot help but praise this place, the wonder of which knows no bounds. Thus, having offered my sincere compliments from the core of my heart I made an extensive tour of the place, and saw many kinds of spectacles.
That evening a khandro named Langpoi Gochen, appeared in my dream and gave me instructions that helped me eliminate negative emotions and mental dullness. Then she revealed to me many literary treasures of Demojong, after which innumerable gods and spirits gathered in the sky, attempting to impress me with their wrathful demeanor and their intention to cause me injury and threaten my life.
And while they were thus discussing among themselves, a voice claiming to be that of Manjushree, the Buddha of learning, declared, ‘This man is the messenger of Padmasambhava: hence no harm should be caused to him. Whichever door of this secret country opens, whether in the east or the west, it is in the interest and good of all beings. Hence everyone should work towards that objective and help.’
Then a hoard of local deities, the protectors of Mount Kanchenjunga, numbering a hundred, gathered. The chief among them said, ‘Do not open the door of the sacred place at this time. First you must carefully examine the situation. These days, people show fake belief only. And there are now none who, without deceit, show any faith from their heart.
‘Oh man, it will simply be a cause of fatigue for you.
‘The number of people who sincerely believe what you say may be compared to the number of stars in the day; while the heretics, who insult and entice others, are like the thickened stars of night. Hence, it will be difficult to find a way to achieve success. People who cherish bad things for others and do not carry out the spiritual commitments will, in the end, cut short your own life. Would it not be better for you to move about in secret with a few of your true and ardent followers?’
In reply to this I said thus, ‘Guru Padmasambhava advised me, “By opening the door of the Secret Country, thou shalt bring about the happiness, prosperity and glory of three thousand blessed followers.” Hence, I shall accept and carry out these hard works with all sincerity. As for you, give up your envy and harshness. Why not rather extend your help in order to make the Hidden Land a friendly country?’
Having said this, I meditated upon the fact that gods and spirits are nothing but the creations of one’s own mind; and while thinking thus, the so-called spirits disappeared without a trace.
When this dream-like state vanished, there came from out of the sky a sweet sound—Hung . . . Hung . . . Hung—that continued for a long time, after which it turned into a voice, which said, ‘Go west, to Padmasambhava’s cave of meditation, which is known as Nub Dechen Phug. There, meditate upon the wrathful demoness Drowo Loe until there is no difference between you and the demoness; then offer lavish presents to the gods and spirits.’
So I went to the cave called Nub Dechen Phug, and through my meditation I assumed myself as the deity. Then I made lavish offerings of nectar-like serkyem, a sacrificial drink. I offered torma [offerings] to the eight classes of worldly demons.
Then I left that place. In three days, I arrived at a cave called Milam Phugmo (Dream Cave). There I came across the tantric deity Heruka dressed like a hermit with rising hair, wearing ornaments of human bones, carrying a staff topped with human skulls. ‘Come,’ he said. ‘Let us go sightseeing.’
And so we did.
Within a few moments we arrived at the top of Mount Kanchenjunga and saw Beyul Demoshong, a country that had hitherto remained entirely hidden. The sky was filled with the rays of rainbows and clouds where the khandros who hadn’t taken human form were passing their time singing and dancing. From the hills and rivers oozed the fragrant smells of medicinal plants. All around, the natural scenery contained unfathomable wonders.
Then the hermit, making some gestures with his fingers, addressed me thus in a very sweet voice: ‘Alas! In the east of this Hidden Land the five summits of the snowy mountains assume the air of a lion. Beneath are precious lakes containing milk-like nectar, and a number of hidden-treasure caves containing precious stones and crystals. In the south, where rainbows and clouds have covered the black forests, you will find abundant resources of silk and food. In the west, where there are forests of medicinal plants, there are also mines containing gold, silver, iron and copper—as well as other materials for household purposes. In the north, where hail and rain fall over the snowy mountains, there are miraculous treasure caves of arms and weapons. There are also wonderful mines that preserve religious treasures, such as images and writings of the Buddha. In all four directions, in the center, as well as in the bordering areas, there are numberless treasures of household goods to fulfill all one’s needs. In the valleys, hills and forests one comes across uncountable varieties of medicine and food, as well as the elementary materials for silk and clothes and different kinds of paints, as well as grains for the preparation of tasty food and drink. Other inexhaustible earthly goods and pleasures are to be found there, which will satisfy one’s senses. Besides the eastern and the western paths, there are no other paths leading to this place. The instruments, names of places and other important keys—like a road guide for the opening of the doors of this place—lie in the five great caves and at Tashiding. If you do not fall prey to the cajoling of the gods and demons who do not keep their promises, and who are immodest in character and who desire evil for others—if you thus escape from the evil effects of the demons, undoubtedly you will come to own this sacred place. Do not forget what I have just told you: take it seriously in your heart.’ He repeated this last line three times, and I woke up from my sleep.
Thereafter, we went to the cave called Dechen, where we discovered many signs of undesirable fighting and epidemic and disintegration taking place in India and Tibet and other areas, which I will not dwell upon in writing.
I remained for two days in that cave of Padmasambhava and made a thorough investigation
of the place. At that time a ferocious demon came straight at me and started bullying me in various ways. I could not immediately say whether the incident was real or took place in a dream-like state. I took recourse to meditation, and by meditating on emptiness brought the evil under control. Later I saw visible signs of the fact that I had brought the spirit under my control.
One morning at dawn, I dreamt of a high stone platform upon which was seated Lord Padmasambhava himself. He was smiling, and his round eyes were directed towards the great expanse of the sky. With a loving heart, he made me the following prediction:
‘Alas! Alas! Now the most degenerate time has come. Before long, the land of Demojong [Sikkim] will be visited by the threat of outsiders. Therefore the time has come for the opening of the hidden country. In spite of this, human beings have become more heretical; few are the people who are faithful and cherish positive thinking. The red storm of impediment caused by evil spirits that do not act according to what they promise are on the rise. An evil spirit has entered into the heart of every individual being. However, a few, due to their good deeds, will keep a close association with you and will even come to see my face.
‘Moreover, if they meditate on Padmasambhava and his consorts, break not their sacred vows, and continue to act according to my predictions, they will certainly be able to achieve supreme consummation of Buddhahood in this life.
‘Those who doubt and cannot believe the predictions of mine, the so-named Padmasambhava, and remain attached to their relatives and the friends of this life and this world will not be able to fulfill their aspirations. How, then, could they enjoy the fortune of visiting the hidden sacred land?
‘Those who do not believe me and other incarnate beings, those who have the wrong view of our activities, use abusive language against us, and instead believe in the tricks of the hypocrites—and are therefore unable to act according to the holy teachings—will fall down into hell. Therefore, it is important that you associate only with people who abide by the holy vows.
‘While opening the great door of the Hidden Land you must make religious offerings as much as possible. Make circumambulations of the four caves. Worship the lords of the land by burning incense and by performing religious ceremonies for the prevention of internal dissention. It is important that you should make fire offerings in the name of the khandros. That will help subvert the gods, spirits and demons. All will come to your help, and your impediments will disappear—both inwardly and outwardly. And you will be able to take many of the fortunate ones to the sacred land.
‘Give up your hesitations. All of you: offer your prayers. The holy vow you make is infallible. Moreover act according to the guidebook to the land of Demoshong and the secret advice of the khandros. Don’t confound your ways and means to achieve your religious goals. Be tactful. Preserve your natural disposition towards the correct view and establish the life force of meditation. By the bold endeavor of your conduct, not concerned with hope and fear, lose not courage to do good for yourself and others. Do not forget what I teach.’
Saying this, Padmasambhava vanished into an unknown place, and there appeared unthinkable numbers of mysterious signs, which I perceived either directly or through unconscious feelings.
Tulshuk Lingpa concludes The Creeper-Plant of the Mind with some general considerations:
In making a journey to Beyul Demoshong, all doubt and hesitation must totally vanish. O you multitude of people who are possessed of your past good deeds and fortunes, if you desire to visit the rugged country, the Hidden Land of Padmasambhava, give up your distrust, which is like a poison; develop in your heart a sense of faith and pure thought. Avoid the company of people that commit sinful acts in these degenerate times. Join the company of the faithful followers of the dharma. Do not attach yourself to worldly things. Come! Join me in my tour of Demoshong. May it be the cause of peace and happiness for all beings.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Géshipa
Géshipa, performing a divination
There was a prophecy written in a pecha, or scripture, that when the time came to open Beyul Demoshong, the lama who would open the way would first announce himself at the Tashiding Gompa. Though none of the lamas of that monastery—nor anyone else for that matter—could tell me which pecha it was written in, let alone show it to me, it is a well-known part of Sikkimese lore. It is a belief that has changed the course of many a person’s life. For when Tulshuk Lingpa and his followers arrived at Tashiding, though they arrived unannounced, there were people living there who had left their homes as far away as in Bhutan in order to be there when the prophesied lama arrived.
One such man was Géshipa. Now in his mid-eighties, he left his native Bhutan when he was thirty-six years old expressly to go to the Tashiding Gompa in Sikkim and await the arrival of the lama prophesied to open the door to the hidden realm. While others had been waiting in Tashiding for years, and even generations, Géshipa was an accomplished and well-known diviner, steeped in the prophecies. When he heard of the Chinese invasion of Tibet, the destruction of the monasteries, the incredible carnage and the exile of the Dalai Lama he knew that all these negative signs pointed in a single direction: towards the ripening of the time for the opening of Beyul Demoshong. He arrived there only a few months before Tulshuk Lingpa first walked up the hill from the village.
Both of Géshipa’s parents were dead by the time he reached his first birthday. When he was a child his grandfather, who was a great yogi, died while in meditation. They left him in the full lotus posture and, as is the case with many accomplished Tibetan lamas, his body did not decay.
At first the young boy did not understand what it meant for someone to be dead. His uncle explained it to him by reminding him of a dog that had recently died in the neighborhood. Géshipa had smelt it and seen its body rot and attract flies and maggots. When he understood what death meant, he didn’t believe his grandfather was dead, so lifelike his body remained. Far from smelling of decay, there was a scent in the air of flowers in the vicinity of his grandfather’s body. His uncle explained that it was his grandfather’s spiritual attainment that prevented his body from decaying. Because the boy had grown up seeing his grandfather deep in meditation and not moving for days at a time, he still couldn’t connect the state his grandfather was in with death. To make this connection clear, his uncle put the boy’s hand to his own mouth and asked him what he felt. He felt the warmth of his own breath. Then his uncle took his hand and held it before his grandfather’s mouth.
‘What do you feel?’ his uncle asked him.
‘Nothing,’ he was obliged to reply. ‘It is cold.’
It was then the boy realized something of the mysteries his grandfather explored while he was alive—sitting in meditation as if he were dead—and now that he was dead appearing still to be alive, preserving his body from the fate of the dog after death.
It was then the boy decided that he would dedicate his life to exploring similar mysteries.
He became the apprentice of a high lama who was a great diviner and soothsayer and the rainmaker for the king of Bhutan. As part of his training, he underwent the first of many meditation retreats, which lasted three years, three months and three days. Though most lamas undergo this meditation retreat, they usually do so in their late teens or early twenties. Géshipa was only in his early teens.
With hardly any food to eat his diet consisted mainly of nettles, which he gathered himself and cooked over a wood fire. He ate so many nettles that his skin turned green, just like the famous Tibetan poet yogi Milarepa.
He had inherited his grandfather’s scriptures and it was during this retreat, nearly starving to death and freezing, that he read in them about the Hidden Land. He read that in the Hidden Land you never have to worry about having enough to eat.
‘Plant a seed in the morning,’ he read, ‘and you can harvest by the evening.’ You never had to worry about having enough clothing. No matter how cold it was, you’d always be warm.
; Hungry, cold and alone in his cave, these words left an indelible mark on his mind. He decided that he would devote himself to finding this hidden land. Now in his mid-eighties and having never returned to Bhutan, Géshipa lives north of Tashiding in Yoksum, the last village before the high mountains and the ‘Western Gate’ to the Hidden Land.
The Yabla family, the wealthy landholding family in the village who were major sponsors of Tulshuk Lingpa, put him up in a wood-slat room above their cowshed where he lives to this day, and where I met him many times.
Géshipa is perhaps the happiest man I’ve ever met. Combining the innocence of a child with the wisdom of a sage, his belief is so direct that it is infectious. It was in his presence, more than in anyone else’s, that I felt the lived reality of possibility that the quest for Beyul represents.
The first time I ventured to Yoksum to meet Géshipa I had the grown son of the Yabla family, who was well educated and spoke English perfectly, translate for me. When I communicated my reason for being there, that I wanted to speak of Tulshuk Lingpa and Beyul, Géshipa was reticent.
‘These are secret things,’ he said. ‘Tantra. I can tell you nothing.’
I tried to get him to mollify his stance. But my interpreter had to be somewhere and left Géshipa and me to our own devices without a language in common. Though Géshipa had lived in Sikkim for over forty years his Nepali—the lingua franca of Sikkim—was still rudimentary. He lived in a world that appeared only to intersect with ours, and it was a world one couldn’t help feeling immediately drawn into. By merely looking at him, one knew he held the keys to great mysteries—for not only did he look every bit the part of the Eastern sage, he lived with the simplicity of one.