September 27

Through My Eyes

Saturday September 27

(We continue listening to the Dalai Lama as he describes his education. )

" At the time of my induction, there were rumours that he was not fit to perform the hair cutting ceremony. It was suggested that he had broken his vows of celibacy and was therefore no longer a monk. There was also open criticism of the way he had punished an official who had spoken against him in the National Assembly. Nevertheless, in accordance with ancient custom, I forfeited my name Lhamo Thondup and assumed his, Jamphel Yeshe, along with several others so that my full name now became Jamphel Ngawang Lobsang Yeshe Tenzin Gyatso.

In addition to Reting Rinpoche as Senior Tutor, I was appointed a Junior Tutor, Tathag Rinpoche, who was an especially spiritual man and very warm and kind. After our lessons together, he would often indulge in casual talks and jokes which I greatly appreciated. Finally, during my early years, Kewtsang Rinpoche, leader of the search party, was given unofficial responsibility as a third tutor. He stood in for the others whenever either of them was away.

I was particularly fond of Kewtsang Rinpoche. Like myself, he was from Amdo. He was so kind that I could never take him seriously. During our lessons, instead of reciting what I was supposed to, I used to hang round his neck and say, 'you recite!' Later, he warned Trijang Rinpoche, who became my Junior Tutor when I was around nineteen years old, that he should take care not to smile or I would be certain to take advantage of him.

These arrangements did not last long, however, for soon after I began my novitiate, Reting Rinpoche gave up the Regency on account of his unpopularity. Despite my being only six years old, I was asked who I thought should replace him. I nominated Tathag Rinpoche . He then became my Senior Tutor and was replaced as Junior Tutor by Ling Rinpoche.

While Tathag Rinpoche was a very gentle man, Ling was very reserved and stern, and to begin with I was really scared of him. I became afraid even at the sight of his servant and quickly learned to recognize the sound of his footsteps-at which my heart missed a beat. But in the end I became friendly towards him and we developed a very good relationship. He became my closest confidante right up until his death in 1983.

As well as my tutors, three men were appointed to be my personal attendants, all of them monks. They were the Chopon Khenpo, Master of the Ritual, the Solpon Khenpo, Master of the Kitchen and the Simpon Khenpo, Master of the Robes. This last was Kenrap Tenzin, the member of the search party whose piercing eyes had made such an impression on me.

When I was very young, I developed a close attachment to the Master of the Kitchen. So strong was it that he had to be in my sight at all times, even if it was only the bottom of his robe visible through a doorway or under the curtains which served as doors inside Tibetan houses. Luckily, he tolerated my behavior. He was a very kind and simple man and almost completely bald. He was not a very good storyteller, nor an enthusiastic playmate but this did not matter one bit.

I have often wondered since about our relationship. I see it now as being like the bond between a kitten or some small animal and the person who feeds it. I sometimes think that the act of bringing food is one of the basic roots of all relationships.

Immediately after my induction as a novice monk, I began to receive my primary education. This consisted solely of learning to read. Lobsang Samten and I were both taught together . I remember our schoolrooms ( one at the Potala and one at the Norbulinka) very well. On opposite walls hung two whips, a yellow silk one and a leather one. The former, we were told, was reserved for the Dalai Lama and the latter was for the Dalai Lama's brother. These instruments of torture terrified us both. It took only a glance from our teacher at one or the other of these whips to make me shiver with fear. Happily, the yellow one was never used, although the leather one came off the wall once or twice. Poor Lobsang Samten. Unluckily for him, he was not such a good student as I was. But then again, I have a suspicion that his beatings might have followed the old Tibetan proverb:'Hit the goat to scare the sheep.' He was made to suffer on my behalf.

Although neither Lobsang Samten nor I were allowed to have friends of our own age, we were never short of company. Both at the Norbulingka and the Potala were an ample staff of sweepers, or room attendants (you could not call them footmen). Mostly they were middle aged men of little or no education , some of whom had come to the job after serving in the army. Their duty was to keep the rooms tidy and to see to it that the floors were polished. This last I was very particular about as I enjoyed skating on them. "

( I promise to add more tomorrow...)

*( please click here to read of the day with me )

* This is from the book Freedom in Exile The Autobiography of the Dalai Lama by Tenzin Gyatso, the fourteenth

Dalai Lama of Tibet.

( Please see my spinning for you!.)

( Tahshi Deleh gentle one! I still haven't gotten to the Grove yet! I worked both inside and outside the studio in between the rain showers that came down periodically for most of the day here. I dried the boards off this morning after they got rained on, the paint dried a few hours later and I cut them and put them onto the stairs in the afternoon before it rained again. Then I winched up a sumac tree that had fallen over during the work so it could rejoin the others around the stairs. The birds like to sit in them and at the top of the stairs you can watch them from all sides as they fly in to sing in the branches only a few feet away. Kathy wants to scrape the wall near the steps for painting so I haven't nailed them onto the stringers yet. While it rained I cleared even more space in the studio and now have narrowed down the job to a small messy nucleus near the opposite wall that tends to act as a storage depot for the Grove equipment. It looks great in here! I hope to get up to the Grove tomorrow though! I'll put this up for now so we can rest.

And so, as always we'll continue two as one on to tomorrow

my one gentle beautiful patient swift dream bright

long dark mane in sunlight

so for now I bid goodnight...Simjah Nahngo!)


	Through My Eyes Saturday September 27 (We continue listening to the Dalai Lama as he describes his education. ) " At the time of my induction, there were rumours that he was not fit to perform the hair cutting ceremony. It was suggested that he had broken his vows of celibacy and was therefore no longer a monk. There was also open criticism of the way he had punished an official who had spoken against him in the National Assembly. Nevertheless, in accordance with ancient custom, I forfeited my name Lhamo Thondup and assumed his, Jamphel Yeshe, along with several others so that my full name now became Jamphel Ngawang Lobsang Yeshe Tenzin Gyatso. In addition to Reting Rinpoche as Senior Tutor, I was appointed a Junior Tutor, Tathag Rinpoche, who was an especially spiritual man and very warm and kind. After our lessons together, he would often indulge in casual talks and jokes which I greatly appreciated. Finally, during my early years, Kewtsang Rinpoche, leader of the search party, was given unofficial responsibility as a third tutor. He stood in for the others whenever either of them was away. I was particularly fond of Kewtsang Rinpoche. Like myself, he was from Amdo. He was so kind that I could never take him seriously. During our lessons, instead of reciting what I was supposed to, I used to hang round his neck and say, 'you recite!' Later, he warned Trijang Rinpoche, who became my Junior Tutor when I was around nineteen years old, that he should take care not to smile or I would be certain to take advantage of him. These arrangements did not last long, however, for soon after I began my novitiate, Reting Rinpoche gave up the Regency on account of his unpopularity. Despite my being only six years old, I was asked who I thought should replace him. I nominated Tathag Rinpoche . He then became my Senior Tutor and was replaced as Junior Tutor by Ling Rinpoche. While Tathag Rinpoche was a very gentle man, Ling was very reserved and stern, and to begin with I was really scared of him. I became afraid even at the sight of his servant and quickly learned to recognize the sound of his footsteps-at which my heart missed a beat. But in the end I became friendly towards him and we developed a very good relationship. He became my closest confidante right up until his death in 1983. As well as my tutors, three men were appointed to be my personal attendants, all of them monks. They were the Chopon Khenpo, Master of the Ritual, the Solpon Khenpo, Master of the Kitchen and the Simpon Khenpo, Master of the Robes. This last was Kenrap Tenzin, the member of the search party whose piercing eyes had made such an impression on me. When I was very young, I developed a close attachment to the Master of the Kitchen. So strong was it that he had to be in my sight at all times, even if it was only the bottom of his robe visible through a doorway or under the curtains which served as doors inside Tibetan houses. Luckily, he tolerated my behavior. He was a very kind and simple man and almost completely bald. He was not a very good storyteller, nor an enthusiastic playmate but this did not matter one bit. I have often wondered since about our relationship. I see it now as being like the bond between a kitten or some small animal and the person who feeds it. I sometimes think that the act of bringing food is one of the basic roots of all relationships. Immediately after my induction as a novice monk, I began to receive my primary education. This consisted solely of learning to read. Lobsang Samten and I were both taught together . I remember our schoolrooms ( one at the Potala and one at the Norbulinka) very well. On opposite walls hung two whips, a yellow silk one and a leather one. The former, we were told, was reserved for the Dalai Lama and the latter was for the Dalai Lama's brother. These instruments of torture terrified us both. It took only a glance from our teacher at one or the other of these whips to make me shiver with fear. Happily, the yellow one was never used, although the leather one came off the wall once or twice. Poor Lobsang Samten. Unluckily for him, he was not such a good student as I was. But then again, I have a suspicion that his beatings might have followed the old Tibetan proverb:'Hit the goat to scare the sheep.' He was made to suffer on my behalf. Although neither Lobsang Samten nor I were allowed to have friends of our own age, we were never short of company. Both at the Norbulingka and the Potala were an ample staff of sweepers, or room attendants (you could not call them footmen). Mostly they were middle aged men of little or no education , some of whom had come to the job after serving in the army. Their duty was to keep the rooms tidy and to see to it that the floors were polished. This last I was very particular about as I enjoyed skating on them. " ( I promise to add more tomorrow...) ( please click here to read of the day with me ) This is from the book Freedom in Exile The Autobiography of the Dalai Lama by Tenzin Gyatso, the fourteenth Dalai Lama of Tibet. ( Please see my spinning for you!.) ( Tahshi Deleh gentle one! I still haven't gotten to the Grove yet! I worked both inside and outside the studio in between the rain showers that came down periodically for most of the day here. I dried the boards off this morning after they got rained on, the paint dried a few hours later and I cut them and put them onto the stairs in the afternoon before it rained again. Then I winched up a sumac tree that had fallen over during the work so it could rejoin the others around the stairs. The birds like to sit in them and at the top of the stairs you can watch them from all sides as they fly in to sing in the branches only a few feet away. Kathy wants to scrape the wall near the steps for painting so I haven't nailed them onto the stringers yet. While it rained I cleared even more space in the studio and now have narrowed down the job to a small messy nucleus near the opposite wall that tends to act as a storage depot for the Grove equipment. It looks great in here! I hope to get up to the Grove tomorrow though! I'll put this up for now so we can rest. And so, as always we'll continue two as one on to tomorrow my one gentle beautiful patient swift dream bright long dark mane in sunlight so for now I bid goodnight...Simjah Nahngo!)