THE TRISONG CAFE OF LHASA
CHAPTER 3: CHODAK THE NOMAD PAINTER
“To be a Thangka painter, the Buddha must live in your heart. Master color mixing and brush techniques, memorize the images of the Buddha, the protector demons and angelic dakinis, know what each flower and animal symbolizes, and their proportions to each other, all the mudras… you may paint them all perfectly. But unless the Buddha lives in the painting, it is not a Thangka.”
“Because a Thangka is sacred,” his father told Chodak when, as a child, Chodak said he wanted to be a Thangka painter. “Because a Thangka teaches those who do not read and that is most Tibetan people. But if your Buddhism lives in your Thangka, it will transmit to the people, the wordless knowledge of the Buddha’s path, the energy of his enlightenment.”
Chodak’s father Tresig was a nomadic herder and so too his grandfather Thompey and his forebears for uncountable generations. Yet Chodak’s father had managed to step enough aside from his family’s station to master Thangka painting. Their clan’s winter home was in the mountains in a small village, Somdop, one of many valleys near the border between Amdo Tibetan area in Qinghai Province and U-Tsang, where Lhasa was located. It was during the winters, when others took the herds to higher, colder, and fiercer grasslands that Tresig stayed with the elders and the babies…and painted.
Since he could remember, Tresig told Chodak, the clan had roamed the warm grasslands and flowing rivers in summer and huddled in the high, windblown, snowy mountain fields in winter. They herded yak, animals who often had their own mind, animals his father fiercely chased down and forced back into the herd. For although Thangka was his love, yet as all nomads, the nomad Tresig was already a fine horseman by his early teens
At the age of 5, Tresig gifted Chodak two animals, the first was a pony.
Tresig intoned, “This pony is part of you. You must take care of him like a brother and he will take care of you.” Then, he handed Chodak the reins. Chodak already knew how to approach a pony, as every nomad knew just after the time they learned to walk. He stroked his neck. He talked to the pony, who whinnied back. He fed him fresh grass that his father handed him. Then he climbed a stirrup and hoisted himself over the saddle.
The pony pranced, then trotted, then broke into a long run. Chodak gently led the pony through all the paces, racing through meadows, sloshing over streams, and into the hills ducking through the limbs of trees.
“You are strong and fast, but you make so little noise. Grey like the skies at dawn, streaked with black on your mane, tail, and your legs, so I’ll call you jam phur , the Quiet Flyer, who races across the sky.”
The second gift was a Tibetan mastiff pup. “He was born 3 weeks ago.” Chodak cradled the pup, not yet come into its full fur, but the coat was already a fiery, golden red. “Good he’s the smaller size kind.” The smaller of the litter were born to be active, nomadic dogs, and the larger ones were sedentary, guardians of the home.
Chodak imagined the two being his best friends, of summers with this puppy running alongside, and then around and under Quiet Flyer while herding yak
“You’ll easily keep up with Quiet Flyer.” Chodak saw a red blur like a sun running circles around the dawn skin of his pony. So I name you bro nyi, the Dancing Sun ”
And this is exactly what happened two nomadic seasons later, when Quiet Flyer, Dancing Sun, and Chodak united as one living force, yet each one strong enough to take to their first time on the nomad trail.
But during the winter months in their village, Chodak loved to watch his father paint. He eventually helped with cleaning brushes, and then later, occasionally mixing a color under his father’s direction. He refreshed father’s tea and brought him food as Tresig did not always stop when his wife called him to the hearth fire.
“So, do you want to be a painter like me?” Tresig asked him one day, holding his brush in mid-air as he gazed into Chodak’s eyes.
“Yes.”
Chodak had not hesitated nor had he rushed his answer. He knew long ago and although gazing back into Father’s eyes, his answer was lightly stated, like a feather floating from him to father.
But as nomads, every spring, Chodak’s father put down his brush and joined the clan, moving camps together as each pasture was chewed down by their herds. They drank yak butter tea and ate dried yak meat, fresh-cured just before the annual nomadic circuit. Tresig taught Chodok how to hunt small animals, pick edible mountain plants, and flowers, and roots. Running water was everywhere and so they brewed chang, or barley beer on the road. At each stop, the herbal ingredients were different and they could tell by taste where the chang was brewed, terroir, and by its shade of amber when held up to the sun.
Chodak assumed that he would be apprenticed to Tinley. But to his surprise, his father announced that he would instruct Chodak. “ Later, when you have mastered what I will teach you, then Tinley takes over.” But with Father, Chodak never picked up a brush. Instead, over several summers, he and his father rode to many, many temples, nearby and far, Chodak on Quiet Flyer and Dancing Sun racing alongside.
They journeyed to the lesser known monasteries: Garza, Thandruk, Samye, Zupagyan, Tadongdru, and Cangzang. They gazed at hundreds of Thangkas, small ones and large ones. They stayed at each monastery to meditate, listen to chanting, and have their dreams interpreted.
“How strong is the feeling of the Buddha in this Thangka?” Tresig endlessly asked his son. Then, Tresig would ask about each element. “Why is this Buddha’s skin blue color?”
This is Medicine Buddha, the Buddha of healing bodily diseases and injury. When we meditate on this Buddha, the karma that causes the illness or injury is cleansed and our bodies healed
This is Purity Buddha. When we gaze upon this Buddha, we can transform our anger into peace and compassion.
“Why is this Buddha’s skin white? And why does the wheel next to him have 8 spokes?”
This is wisdom Buddha and learning Buddha. When we meditate on this Buddha, we cut through the illusions of this world and see its reality. Seeing reality is the correct path to enlightenment.
When we gaze on the 8 spokes of the wheel, we learn the Buddha’s teaching of the 8-points of right living in the world: right speech, right action, right intention, right livelihood, right effort, right concentration, right perspective, and mindfulness. Practicing the 8-points of right living is the correct path to enlightenment
“The mirror symbolizes clear consciousness, imperturable by life’s distractions, negativities, and temptations. Why is it a round disc surrounded by a golden aura? What are the names of the Buddhas symbolized by the 5 small circles on its face?”
This mirror symbolizes the roundness of the sun with its golden rays, the source of light that enables us to see clearly.
The names of the 5 Buddhas are symbolized by its colors: blue, white, red, green, and yellow.
Gazing upon this disc reminds of us to learn form the teachings of each of the 5
Buddhas along the path of enlightenment.
“What is the meaning of the 3-legged crow and is it inside the circle of the sun or the circle of the moon?”
The 3-legged crow is a messenger from the sun. Thus the crow is inside the circle of the sun. When we meditate on the crow, the 3-legs symbolizes our strength and stability to persist on the path of enlightenment.
“This combination animal are the mythical Garuda-Lion? Why this union?”
The Garuda bird is lord of the sky while the lion is lord of the earth. This combination is a protector which harmoniously integrates heaven and earth. It is one of the three symbols of victory in practice.
When gaze upon the union of the Garuda and the Lion, we are reminded that to unite our individual self with the universe and thus attain enlightenment.
“This lotus blossom has 8 petals. And why are there 16 petals in this Thangka?”
The lotus blossom symbolizes human ability to become enlightened beings. As the lotus blossoms starts life by grow in muddy water, so too, do humans start life in the muck of suffering, attachment, and ignorance. When we gaze on the lotus, we have faith that we too shall rise above the muck and bloom into enlightenment.
Gazing upon the 8 petals reminds us to practice the Buddha’s 8 point guidelines of ethical or right living. Practicing these 8-point skeeps us on the true path towards enlightenment.
The 16 petal lotus represents the vital force in our second chakra center. This 16petal lotus is transmitted into Tibetan Buddhism from India. Each petal represents one of 16 energy gates into the body. Meditatating on the 16-petal lotus, reminds us to cultivate opening our 16 gates so we may receive higher energies which will purify our bodies.
“When should the lotus blossom be a light red instead of pink?”
There are 5 colors for lotus blossoms in Buddhism.
Pink represents the history and stories of the Buddha. One who gazes upon the pink lotus flower will be reminded to learn to live like the Buddha.
Red represents open hearted compassion. One who gazes upon the red lotus flower will be reminded to practice compassion to all beings.
Depending what the family who asks for a Thangka needs in their practice, the lotus blossom in their Thangka will be of a different color. Those who are at the beginning of the path benefit more to gaze upon the pink lotus. Those further along the path and ready to receive the more advanced teachings of compassion will meditate on the red lotus blossom.
the white lotus reminds us of the orginal Buddha nature inside all of us, from since the beginning of time.
The white lotus symbolizes the heart of the Buddha, of purity in body, mind and spirit. Meditating upon the white blossom strengthens us to overcome the weaknesses of our human nature.
“Why does this hand mudra point downward? What does the eye in the palm’s center mean?”
This is the hand mudra of the Buddha who touched the earth with the fingers of his right hand on the night of his enlightenment. “Earth is my witness” to the truth of his enlightenment and liberation.
The eye in the palm of hand is the inner eye of wisdom and the Third eye of the Buddha. Gazing upon this eye teaches one to stop “looking” with outer eyes on the world and to start “seeing” with our inner eyes on the Buddha’s wisdom. In this way, we more easily continue our journey on the path to enlightenment.
“This is a rare Buddha, why is this Buddha wearing a necklace of 50 heads? How does it teach the integrated 8- point matrix path of right conduct?”
This garland of 50 skulls reminds that death is part of existence, but that even death is empty, and as such, death no power over us. As with all of reality, the garland of 50 skulls reminds us all phenomena is temporary, and thus empty.
“ If the necklace has just one more head, 51 heads, what is the teaching?”
There is no further teaching. The painter added one skull more than the traditional 50. This is probably a minor mistake, but yet does not detract from the teachings contained in this Thangka.
“What color is the protector demon Yamantaka Vajrabhairav? Which schools revere him? What is Yamantaka’s relation with Yama, the demon of Death?”
The color of the outer Yamantaka is blue/black with a buffalos head. The color of the inner secret Yamantaka is red.
The Gulugta school reveres Yamantaka as one of three main meditational deities. But all schools meditate on Yamantaka
Yamantaka is a protector demon who conquored Yama, the demon of death. Thus, Yamāntaka is the symbol of bringing an end to death. Meditating upon Yamantaka helps us realize that death is empty, that death has no hold on those along the path of enlightenment. We need not fear death. There is no death.
The inner secrets are reserved for those more advanced on the path of enlightenment.
“As to the black Demon, Mantakala, why does he hold an axe in one hand and a skull in the other?” “This white lotus blossom signifies the emanation of which Buddha - and of which of the great virtues?”
The white lotus symbolizes the emanation is the Vairocana Buddha, the first to attain Buddhahood, eons before our historical Sakyamuni Buddha. Meditating on Mantakala’s ax is the symbol of his protector role as the deity who defends against those who seek to alter or dilute or otherwise corrupt the ancient words of the Buddha. The skull symbolizes that as a fierce protector demon, he will kill the heretics. Meditating on Mantakala helps us to stay true to the teachings of the Buddha and to continuously educate ourselves in the words of the Buddha.
“Why does the blue Demoness Ekajati have only one eye, one tooth, and one breast?”
The fierce Demoness Ekajati is a protector demon. Ekajati’s one eye symbolizes she is not lost in the duality of separation between the universe and the self, but is united as one.
Ekajati’s one tooth symbolizes her fierceness in biting through the worldly hindrances on the path of enlightenment.
Ekajati’s one breast symbolizes she will nourish and strenghten those willing to sacrafice to undertake a fierce, demanding, and quicker path towards enlightenment.
Meditating upon on Ekajati teaches us to sacrifice the things of the world and
dedicate ourself fully at all times and in all ways to the swift path of enlightenment.
Over those summers, they camped days by two sacred lakes: Namtso in Nagzu north of Lhasa and Yomdrok Tso in Shannon. They hiked up to the tops of peaks. Dancing Sun, although a day dog, was vigilant during the night, growling warnings to passing travelers and nocturnal animals, yet never barking so as to not wake his family.
On other days, they sat silently on plains and mountain sides. “Feel the living spirit in each rock, tree, and bush.”
Finally, Tinley had Chodak prostrate himself in prayer all the way from their village to Lhasa’s Jokhang temple. Prostration prayer required Chodak to bend down, then get onto his knees, and prostrate full-length, making a mark with his fully extended fingers. To get up, he rose to his knees, pray, and then crawled forward on hands and knees to the mark made by his fingers before repeating the process.
It took Chodak two-and-a-half months of prostrations to reach Lhasa. He arrived in early August, the time of the yogurt festival. Chodak climbed the hill by Drepung Monastery to the giant Thangka spread across the face of an entire hill. The Thangka could be seen for miles and miles and around. All around the hillside, swirling, grey columns of burning herb incense rose high into the sky. Thousands of Tibetans with white silk khata scarves around their necks and hands held together in prayer ambled up the winding, dirt roads to the top. It is said that any wish uttered into the khata would be granted. His head was humming when he neared the Thangka. He put his wish into the khata, to create Thangkas that would lead all beings to enlightenment. And along with the tens of thousands of pilgrims, he tossed his khata high onto the face of the Thangka. He watched it roll down to the bottom.
Then, he studied this hillside Thangka. He slowly deconstructed the details; colors, symbols, and natural details. He chanted his appreciation for each recognition. He burned grass ropes and spread the smoke over himself and into the air.
The Buddha Sakyamuni, a yellow skin Buddha, dominated the center of the Thangka, sitting in mediation. His blue hair ended in a neat top-knot. A green aura circled his head signifying his enlightened consciousness. Topping the aura was a decorative parasol, protecting him from the sun.
In his left hand, the Buddha held his morning alms bowl. The right hand mudra pointed fingers down, touching the ground as on the night of his enlightenment, when he summoned the earth to bear witness to his liberation. Two of Buddha’s students, one on each side, stood next to the Buddha’s meditation platform. Each held a morning alms bowl and a long, walking staff.
Chodok noticed their faces were the same, as if generic, though he was sure, one must be Ananda, the Buddha’s faithful servant for 25 years, and the main oral source of the writing of the dharma years after the Buddha’s death.
Three Buddhas within a cloud hovered over the Buddha’s right shoulder, golden Dipamkara, Buddha of the past, golden Avalokiteśvara, Buddha of the past, and surprisingly, Green Tara, the female Buddha of Compassion. Chodak had not seen these three together before. He had expected Maitreya, the golden Buddha of the future, as the third.
Three Dalai Lamas hovered over the left shoulder: Gedun Drupa, the founder of Gelupta Buddhism, the first Dalai Lama to wear the telltale yellow hat of the Gelupta School; the great Fifth Dalai Lama, Lobsang Gyatso, the one who built the Potala Palace; and finally, the Thirteenth Dalai Lama, Thupten Gyatso, who starting modernizing Tibet in the early 1900s and to declare it an independent nation, but was stopped dead by his own monasteries and the powerful aristocratic feudal families.
Over the Buddha’s head floated two Protector Demons: the reddish, tripled-faced, 6 armed, 6 weaponed Hayagriva, the Horse-Necked One, emanating from the Buddha of compassion, and surrounded by red flames; and the great black one, Mahakala, the protector of the Buddha’s teachings, with a lotus plant in his left hand and an ax in his right hand, ready to cut away any corruption to the Buddha’s teachings.
Just as Chodak started to analyze the colors of the clothing and the patterns along the margins, the smoke of the burning grass bundles obscured the Thangka momentarily, but it was the droning of the long, brass dunchen horns which abruptly put a stop to Chodak’s deconstruction.
Suddenly, he was not able to concentrate. He reached out for his father’s shoulder. His father put one arm around Chodak’s waist. Dancing Sun nervously drew closer, growling to warn off the swarming crowds, creating a space around them as Chodak transmuted in this moment of realization.
And then Chodak saw the people. Really saw them, walking as if lighter than air, seeing through them as if they were blown glass, but fluid. Moving. Free of life’s heaviness. Floating along in a special state of consciousness. Chanting and praying and radiant with auras of gold, purple, and red. Elders, children, mothers, fathers. Amdo, Khamdo, and Lhasan. Rich and poor, urban and rural. Even many Han who had come as tourists had let their cameras droop down on their straps. Forgotten. Their hands clasped in front of the heart chakra, the lips, and even their third eye. Lips moving as in prayer.
And then he knew, Chodak knew. All people are pilgrims, seekers of truth, and on the path to liberation. His Thangkas were for the benefit of ALL beings.
Finally, he stood empty minded, silent in his field of so many faithful and sincere beings. He looked at every light being floating past him and felt blessed to if he could serve that being. He breathed it all in and out. Although they had arrived early that morning, yet they was one of the last to leave that evening.
That next summer of his education with his father was his final lesson. They drove out to Mount Kailash, in the far west of Tibet, and circumambulated it together. It was just too long a journey to drive there. Quiet Flyer stayed home, but Circling Sun came along. Their clockwise pilgrimage would take three days. They easily merged in with Hindus other Tibetans. Chodok saw no snow on the sunless north side. Yet he saw snow covering the face of the south side even as it received the full summer sun. Truly the spirit of the mountain protector willed it so. They periodically passed Jain and Tibetan Bon pilgrims who walked counter-clockwise. In both directions, many pilgrims performed prostrations.
They then camped along the shores of holy Lake Mansarova, just south of Mt. Kailash. They drank its waters, bathed in its clean, chilly, and holy waters, with its properties of cleansing past bad karma.
As they meditated, they saw rainbows. Swans flew overhead. Auspicious signs for Chodak.
Ocassionally, they stopped at one of eight monasteries sited at the Mansarova’s cardinal points and gazed at Thangkas. They spent two days at Chiu Gompa monastery, built on the base of a rock hill, for a Sondop relative was resident Rinpoche here.
Eastward, on the way back along the road to Lhasa, they stopped at Tashilunpo
Monastery, in the city of Shigatse, the seat of the Panchen Lama, the second highest Lama next to the Dalai Lama in the Yellow Hat Gelupta school. When Chodak saw the Tashilunpo’s giant Thangka hillside wall, he promised himself, that Buddha willing, he would one day paint a Thangka to fill this wall.
It was at Tashilunpo that Tserig finally gave Chodak a pencil and drawing paper. He told him to rough out several Thangkas, paying attention to elements chosen and the spatial relationship of the different symbols Then, Tserig grilled him on each element and critiqued Chodak’s overall designs.
When they returned to their village at the end of summer, Tresig announced, “I have done what I can. Tinley will now teach you. Let Buddha’s teachings flow through your fingers onto the canvas.”
“Remember, most Tibetans cannot read sutras. The Thangka is a their sutra, So, remember, that with each Thangka, you are teaching the dharma to farmers, nomads, and store owners. You are reminding them to deepen practice so one day, they too, will be free. A Thangka can actually transmit initiations into different level of consciousness. But that is a rare Thangka indeed.”
“If you are offered much money by a rich man, still Thangka is spiritual. Get to know him first. Is he a good man? Is he troubled? What teachings should you put in his Thangka, for his family to help them to know the dharma better? Ask him to meditate with you. Feel him as you have felt the mountains, springs, and trees. You will know what Thangka he needs in his home.”
“And do not forget to meditate each time before you paint. Finally, until a monk blesses the Thangka, it is not yet completed. Start in meditation and finish in blessing.”
It was only after these final instructions that Tsersig turned Chodak over to Tinley, the free monk, master Thangka painter, and Tresig’s own teacher. Tinley taught him the techniques of color mixing, brush work, canvass stretching, and the differences in style between the major schools of Thangka. Of course, they meditated before each lesson and it was Tinley who blessed each finished Thangka.
And that was how Chodak became a Thangka painter, an independent, non-monastic artist. Infused with the Buddha. As his repute grew, and remembering his father’s words, Tresig gave away more Thangkas to poor people than he sold to the wealthy.
He also refused to sign his name to his work, despite his skill, for he did not think he should be “famous” just for practicing the Buddhist path in a different way. But everyone could tell a Chodak from other Thangkas. There was just something riveting to the spirit, some brilliance, like a mystical shine emanating outward, and then returning into your heart.
In time, he acquired the name Humble Thangka Rinpoche, for everyone felt the Buddha in his paintings, that it was more powerful than his undisputed superior artistry, the finest of his generation.
“Yes, Thangka is my Buddhist path.”
One night, he dreamed the symbolic four wheels of joy spinning quicker and quicker, then slowing to a stop, and then starting up again, over and and over. The wheels were standing as if arranged alongside the axle of a wagon, although there was no wagon in the dream. Then, they started to roll along, as if on a trail, to the south. Then, they disappeared into the distance, dust blowing behind.
Suddenly, he saw visions of the giant Thangka at Drepung, in Lhasa, during the Shoton Yogurt Festival. He saw the Potala and Sera Monastery. He saw a stream of prostrators arriving at the Jokhang, dusty, tired, but happy. The dream repeated over several nights.
“Was this a call to head again to Lhasa? To maybe move there?”
Then, another night, a group of young Tibetans appeared in his dream, very urban looking Lhasans, chatting in Tibetan, then switching to Chinese, and finally some sounds he assumed was a Western language. Sometimes, all three languages were spoken in the same sentence. The group was male and female, but they all interacted as equals. The same dream repeated for a week. Chodok realized he was supposed to move to Lhasa. The next morning, he announced to his family that he was leaving Sandop town. That night, the dreams ended.
He said good-bye to Quiet Flyer, now an older horse, and put him out to pasture. For reasons no one could understand, Dancing Sun was still vigorous although years past the average life span of the healthiest Tibetan mastiff. Yes, Dancing Sun could no longer run as fast, nor, more notably, was he aggressive towards strangers, the protective and yet dangerous trait of all Tibetan mastiffs. In fact, he was so downright mellow, he would stick his hand under anyone Chodak talked to receive a scratch. He tolerated children playing roughly with him, even let them climbed onto his broad back like he was a pony.
Chodak knew that is was because Dancing Sun had roamed Tibet with him and father. Dancing Sun had circumambulated Mt Kailash. Dancing Sun, too, had absorbed the essences, the energy, the spiritual mysticism of the vast land they had wandered. The journey had amped up his life force, had imbued Dancing Sun with the peacefulness of the Buddha. Dancing Sun had transformed into a Buddha in canine form. Chodok knew to take this constant companion since the age of 5 with him to Lhasa. “To be a Thangka painter, the Buddha must live in your heart. Master color mixing and brush techniques, memorize the images of the Buddha, the protector demons and angelic dakinis, know what each flower and animal symbolizes, and their proportions to each other, all the mudras… you may paint them all perfectly. But unless the Buddha lives in the painting, it is not a Thangka.”
“Because a Thangka is sacred,” his father told Chodak when, as a child, Chodak said he wanted to be a Thangka painter. “Because a Thangka teaches those who do not read and that is most Tibetan people. But if your Buddhism lives in your Thangka, it will transmit to the people, the wordless knowledge of the Buddha’s path, the energy of his enlightenment.”
Chodak’s father Tresig was a nomadic herder and so too his grandfather Thompey and his forebears for uncountable generations. Yet Chodak’s father had managed to step enough aside from his family’s station to master Thangka painting. Their clan’s winter home was in the mountains in a small village, Somdop, one of many valleys near the border between Amdo Tibetan area in Qinghai Province and U-Tsang, where Lhasa was located. It was during the winters, when others took the herds to higher, colder, and fiercer grasslands that Tresig stayed with the elders and the babies…and painted.
Since he could remember, Tresig told Chodak, the clan had roamed the warm grasslands and flowing rivers in summer and huddled in the high, windblown, snowy mountain fields in winter. They herded yak, animals who often had their own mind, animals his father fiercely chased down and forced back into the herd. For although Thangka was his love, yet as all nomads, the nomad Tresig was already a fine horseman by his early teens
At the age of 5, Tresig gifted Chodak two animals, the first was a pony.
Tresig intoned, “This pony is part of you. You must take care of him like a brother and he will take care of you.” Then, he handed Chodak the reins. Chodak already knew how to approach a pony, as every nomad knew just after the time they learned to walk. He stroked his neck. He talked to the pony, who whinnied back. He fed him fresh grass that his father handed him. Then he climbed a stirrup and hoisted himself over the saddle.
The pony pranced, then trotted, then broke into a long run. Chodak gently led the pony through all the paces, racing through meadows, sloshing over streams, and into the hills ducking through the limbs of trees.
“You are strong and fast, but you make so little noise. Grey like the skies at dawn, streaked with black on your mane, tail, and your legs, so I’ll call you jam phur , the Quiet Flyer, who races across the sky.”
The second gift was a Tibetan mastiff pup. “He was born 3 weeks ago.” Chodak cradled the pup, not yet come into its full fur, but the coat was already a fiery, golden red. “Good he’s the smaller size kind.” The smaller of the litter were born to be active, nomadic dogs, and the larger ones were sedentary, guardians of the home.
Chodak imagined the two being his best friends, of summers with this puppy running alongside, and then around and under Quiet Flyer while herding yak
“You’ll easily keep up with Quiet Flyer.” Chodak saw a red blur like a sun running circles around the dawn skin of his pony. So I name you bro nyi, the Dancing Sun ”
And this is exactly what happened two nomadic seasons later, when Quiet Flyer, Dancing Sun, and Chodak united as one living force, yet each one strong enough to take to their first time on the nomad trail.
But during the winter months in their village, Chodak loved to watch his father paint. He eventually helped with cleaning brushes, and then later, occasionally mixing a color under his father’s direction. He refreshed father’s tea and brought him food as Tresig did not always stop when his wife called him to the hearth fire.
“So, do you want to be a painter like me?” Tresig asked him one day, holding his brush in mid-air as he gazed into Chodak’s eyes.
“Yes.”
Chodak had not hesitated nor had he rushed his answer. He knew long ago and although gazing back into Father’s eyes, his answer was lightly stated, like a feather floating from him to father.
But as nomads, every spring, Chodak’s father put down his brush and joined the clan, moving camps together as each pasture was chewed down by their herds. They drank yak butter tea and ate dried yak meat, fresh-cured just before the annual nomadic circuit. Tresig taught Chodok how to hunt small animals, pick edible mountain plants, and flowers, and roots. Running water was everywhere and so they brewed chang, or barley beer on the road. At each stop, the herbal ingredients were different and they could tell by taste where the chang was brewed, terroir, and by its shade of amber when held up to the sun.
Chodak assumed that he would be apprenticed to Tinley. But to his surprise, his father announced that he would instruct Chodak. “ Later, when you have mastered what I will teach you, then Tinley takes over.” But with Father, Chodak never picked up a brush. Instead, over several summers, he and his father rode to many, many temples, nearby and far, Chodak on Quiet Flyer and Dancing Sun racing alongside.
They journeyed to the lesser known monasteries: Garza, Thandruk, Samye, Zupagyan, Tadongdru, and Cangzang. They gazed at hundreds of Thangkas, small ones and large ones. They stayed at each monastery to meditate, listen to chanting, and have their dreams interpreted.
“How strong is the feeling of the Buddha in this Thangka?” Tresig endlessly asked his son. Then, Tresig would ask about each element. “Why is this Buddha’s skin blue color?”
This is Medicine Buddha, the Buddha of healing bodily diseases and injury. When we meditate on this Buddha, the karma that causes the illness or injury is cleansed and our bodies healed
This is Purity Buddha. When we gaze upon this Buddha, we can transform our anger into peace and compassion.
“Why is this Buddha’s skin white? And why does the wheel next to him have 8 spokes?”
This is wisdom Buddha and learning Buddha. When we meditate on this Buddha, we cut through the illusions of this world and see its reality. Seeing reality is the correct path to enlightenment.
When we gaze on the 8 spokes of the wheel, we learn the Buddha’s teaching of the 8-points of right living in the world: right speech, right action, right intention, right livelihood, right effort, right concentration, right perspective, and mindfulness. Practicing the 8-points of right living is the correct path to enlightenment
“The mirror symbolizes clear consciousness, imperturable by life’s distractions, negativities, and temptations. Why is it a round disc surrounded by a golden aura? What are the names of the Buddhas symbolized by the 5 small circles on its face?”
This mirror symbolizes the roundness of the sun with its golden rays, the source of light that enables us to see clearly.
The names of the 5 Buddhas are symbolized by its colors: blue, white, red, green, and yellow.
Gazing upon this disc reminds of us to learn form the teachings of each of the 5
Buddhas along the path of enlightenment.
“What is the meaning of the 3-legged crow and is it inside the circle of the sun or the circle of the moon?”
The 3-legged crow is a messenger from the sun. Thus the crow is inside the circle of the sun. When we meditate on the crow, the 3-legs symbolizes our strength and stability to persist on the path of enlightenment.
“This combination animal are the mythical Garuda-Lion? Why this union?”
The Garuda bird is lord of the sky while the lion is lord of the earth. This combination is a protector which harmoniously integrates heaven and earth. It is one of the three symbols of victory in practice.
When gaze upon the union of the Garuda and the Lion, we are reminded that to unite our individual self with the universe and thus attain enlightenment.
“This lotus blossom has 8 petals. And why are there 16 petals in this Thangka?”
The lotus blossom symbolizes human ability to become enlightened beings. As the lotus blossoms starts life by grow in muddy water, so too, do humans start life in the muck of suffering, attachment, and ignorance. When we gaze on the lotus, we have faith that we too shall rise above the muck and bloom into enlightenment.
Gazing upon the 8 petals reminds us to practice the Buddha’s 8 point guidelines of ethical or right living. Practicing these 8-point skeeps us on the true path towards enlightenment.
The 16 petal lotus represents the vital force in our second chakra center. This 16petal lotus is transmitted into Tibetan Buddhism from India. Each petal represents one of 16 energy gates into the body. Meditatating on the 16-petal lotus, reminds us to cultivate opening our 16 gates so we may receive higher energies which will purify our bodies.
“When should the lotus blossom be a light red instead of pink?”
There are 5 colors for lotus blossoms in Buddhism.
Pink represents the history and stories of the Buddha. One who gazes upon the pink lotus flower will be reminded to learn to live like the Buddha.
Red represents open hearted compassion. One who gazes upon the red lotus flower will be reminded to practice compassion to all beings.
Depending what the family who asks for a Thangka needs in their practice, the lotus blossom in their Thangka will be of a different color. Those who are at the beginning of the path benefit more to gaze upon the pink lotus. Those further along the path and ready to receive the more advanced teachings of compassion will meditate on the red lotus blossom.
the white lotus reminds us of the orginal Buddha nature inside all of us, from since the beginning of time.
The white lotus symbolizes the heart of the Buddha, of purity in body, mind and spirit. Meditating upon the white blossom strengthens us to overcome the weaknesses of our human nature.
“Why does this hand mudra point downward? What does the eye in the palm’s center mean?”
This is the hand mudra of the Buddha who touched the earth with the fingers of his right hand on the night of his enlightenment. “Earth is my witness” to the truth of his enlightenment and liberation.
The eye in the palm of hand is the inner eye of wisdom and the Third eye of the Buddha. Gazing upon this eye teaches one to stop “looking” with outer eyes on the world and to start “seeing” with our inner eyes on the Buddha’s wisdom. In this way, we more easily continue our journey on the path to enlightenment.
“This is a rare Buddha, why is this Buddha wearing a necklace of 50 heads? How does it teach the integrated 8- point matrix path of right conduct?”
This garland of 50 skulls reminds that death is part of existence, but that even death is empty, and as such, death no power over us. As with all of reality, the garland of 50 skulls reminds us all phenomena is temporary, and thus empty.
“ If the necklace has just one more head, 51 heads, what is the teaching?”
There is no further teaching. The painter added one skull more than the traditional 50. This is probably a minor mistake, but yet does not detract from the teachings contained in this Thangka.
“What color is the protector demon Yamantaka Vajrabhairav? Which schools revere him? What is Yamantaka’s relation with Yama, the demon of Death?”
The color of the outer Yamantaka is blue/black with a buffalos head. The color of the inner secret Yamantaka is red.
The Gulugta school reveres Yamantaka as one of three main meditational deities. But all schools meditate on Yamantaka
Yamantaka is a protector demon who conquored Yama, the demon of death. Thus, Yamāntaka is the symbol of bringing an end to death. Meditating upon Yamantaka helps us realize that death is empty, that death has no hold on those along the path of enlightenment. We need not fear death. There is no death.
The inner secrets are reserved for those more advanced on the path of enlightenment.
“As to the black Demon, Mantakala, why does he hold an axe in one hand and a skull in the other?” “This white lotus blossom signifies the emanation of which Buddha - and of which of the great virtues?”
The white lotus symbolizes the emanation is the Vairocana Buddha, the first to attain Buddhahood, eons before our historical Sakyamuni Buddha. Meditating on Mantakala’s ax is the symbol of his protector role as the deity who defends against those who seek to alter or dilute or otherwise corrupt the ancient words of the Buddha. The skull symbolizes that as a fierce protector demon, he will kill the heretics. Meditating on Mantakala helps us to stay true to the teachings of the Buddha and to continuously educate ourselves in the words of the Buddha.
“Why does the blue Demoness Ekajati have only one eye, one tooth, and one breast?”
The fierce Demoness Ekajati is a protector demon. Ekajati’s one eye symbolizes she is not lost in the duality of separation between the universe and the self, but is united as one.
Ekajati’s one tooth symbolizes her fierceness in biting through the worldly hindrances on the path of enlightenment.
Ekajati’s one breast symbolizes she will nourish and strenghten those willing to sacrafice to undertake a fierce, demanding, and quicker path towards enlightenment.
Meditating upon on Ekajati teaches us to sacrifice the things of the world and
dedicate ourself fully at all times and in all ways to the swift path of enlightenment.
Over those summers, they camped days by two sacred lakes: Namtso in Nagzu north of Lhasa and Yomdrok Tso in Shannon. They hiked up to the tops of peaks. Dancing Sun, although a day dog, was vigilant during the night, growling warnings to passing travelers and nocturnal animals, yet never barking so as to not wake his family.
On other days, they sat silently on plains and mountain sides. “Feel the living spirit in each rock, tree, and bush.”
Finally, Tinley had Chodak prostrate himself in prayer all the way from their village to Lhasa’s Jokhang temple. Prostration prayer required Chodak to bend down, then get onto his knees, and prostrate full-length, making a mark with his fully extended fingers. To get up, he rose to his knees, pray, and then crawled forward on hands and knees to the mark made by his fingers before repeating the process.
It took Chodak two-and-a-half months of prostrations to reach Lhasa. He arrived in early August, the time of the yogurt festival. Chodak climbed the hill by Drepung Monastery to the giant Thangka spread across the face of an entire hill. The Thangka could be seen for miles and miles and around. All around the hillside, swirling, grey columns of burning herb incense rose high into the sky. Thousands of Tibetans with white silk khata scarves around their necks and hands held together in prayer ambled up the winding, dirt roads to the top. It is said that any wish uttered into the khata would be granted. His head was humming when he neared the Thangka. He put his wish into the khata, to create Thangkas that would lead all beings to enlightenment. And along with the tens of thousands of pilgrims, he tossed his khata high onto the face of the Thangka. He watched it roll down to the bottom.
Then, he studied this hillside Thangka. He slowly deconstructed the details; colors, symbols, and natural details. He chanted his appreciation for each recognition. He burned grass ropes and spread the smoke over himself and into the air.
The Buddha Sakyamuni, a yellow skin Buddha, dominated the center of the Thangka, sitting in mediation. His blue hair ended in a neat top-knot. A green aura circled his head signifying his enlightened consciousness. Topping the aura was a decorative parasol, protecting him from the sun.
In his left hand, the Buddha held his morning alms bowl. The right hand mudra pointed fingers down, touching the ground as on the night of his enlightenment, when he summoned the earth to bear witness to his liberation. Two of Buddha’s students, one on each side, stood next to the Buddha’s meditation platform. Each held a morning alms bowl and a long, walking staff.
Chodok noticed their faces were the same, as if generic, though he was sure, one must be Ananda, the Buddha’s faithful servant for 25 years, and the main oral source of the writing of the dharma years after the Buddha’s death.
Three Buddhas within a cloud hovered over the Buddha’s right shoulder, golden Dipamkara, Buddha of the past, golden Avalokiteśvara, Buddha of the past, and surprisingly, Green Tara, the female Buddha of Compassion. Chodak had not seen these three together before. He had expected Maitreya, the golden Buddha of the future, as the third.
Three Dalai Lamas hovered over the left shoulder: Gedun Drupa, the founder of Gelupta Buddhism, the first Dalai Lama to wear the telltale yellow hat of the Gelupta School; the great Fifth Dalai Lama, Lobsang Gyatso, the one who built the Potala Palace; and finally, the Thirteenth Dalai Lama, Thupten Gyatso, who starting modernizing Tibet in the early 1900s and to declare it an independent nation, but was stopped dead by his own monasteries and the powerful aristocratic feudal families.
Over the Buddha’s head floated two Protector Demons: the reddish, tripled-faced, 6 armed, 6 weaponed Hayagriva, the Horse-Necked One, emanating from the Buddha of compassion, and surrounded by red flames; and the great black one, Mahakala, the protector of the Buddha’s teachings, with a lotus plant in his left hand and an ax in his right hand, ready to cut away any corruption to the Buddha’s teachings.
Just as Chodak started to analyze the colors of the clothing and the patterns along the margins, the smoke of the burning grass bundles obscured the Thangka momentarily, but it was the droning of the long, brass dunchen horns which abruptly put a stop to Chodak’s deconstruction.
Suddenly, he was not able to concentrate. He reached out for his father’s shoulder. His father put one arm around Chodak’s waist. Dancing Sun nervously drew closer, growling to warn off the swarming crowds, creating a space around them as Chodak transmuted in this moment of realization.
And then Chodak saw the people. Really saw them, walking as if lighter than air, seeing through them as if they were blown glass, but fluid. Moving. Free of life’s heaviness. Floating along in a special state of consciousness. Chanting and praying and radiant with auras of gold, purple, and red. Elders, children, mothers, fathers. Amdo, Khamdo, and Lhasan. Rich and poor, urban and rural. Even many Han who had come as tourists had let their cameras droop down on their straps. Forgotten. Their hands clasped in front of the heart chakra, the lips, and even their third eye. Lips moving as in prayer.
And then he knew, Chodak knew. All people are pilgrims, seekers of truth, and on the path to liberation. His Thangkas were for the benefit of ALL beings.
Finally, he stood empty minded, silent in his field of so many faithful and sincere beings. He looked at every light being floating past him and felt blessed to if he could serve that being. He breathed it all in and out. Although they had arrived early that morning, yet they was one of the last to leave that evening.
That next summer of his education with his father was his final lesson. They drove out to Mount Kailash, in the far west of Tibet, and circumambulated it together. It was just too long a journey to drive there. Quiet Flyer stayed home, but Circling Sun came along. Their clockwise pilgrimage would take three days. They easily merged in with Hindus other Tibetans. Chodok saw no snow on the sunless north side. Yet he saw snow covering the face of the south side even as it received the full summer sun. Truly the spirit of the mountain protector willed it so. They periodically passed Jain and Tibetan Bon pilgrims who walked counter-clockwise. In both directions, many pilgrims performed prostrations.
They then camped along the shores of holy Lake Mansarova, just south of Mt. Kailash. They drank its waters, bathed in its clean, chilly, and holy waters, with its properties of cleansing past bad karma.
As they meditated, they saw rainbows. Swans flew overhead. Auspicious signs for Chodak.
Ocassionally, they stopped at one of eight monasteries sited at the Mansarova’s cardinal points and gazed at Thangkas. They spent two days at Chiu Gompa monastery, built on the base of a rock hill, for a Sondop relative was resident Rinpoche here.
Eastward, on the way back along the road to Lhasa, they stopped at Tashilunpo
Monastery, in the city of Shigatse, the seat of the Panchen Lama, the second highest Lama next to the Dalai Lama in the Yellow Hat Gelupta school. When Chodak saw the Tashilunpo’s giant Thangka hillside wall, he promised himself, that Buddha willing, he would one day paint a Thangka to fill this wall.
It was at Tashilunpo that Tserig finally gave Chodak a pencil and drawing paper. He told him to rough out several Thangkas, paying attention to elements chosen and the spatial relationship of the different symbols Then, Tserig grilled him on each element and critiqued Chodak’s overall designs.
When they returned to their village at the end of summer, Tresig announced, “I have done what I can. Tinley will now teach you. Let Buddha’s teachings flow through your fingers onto the canvas.”
“Remember, most Tibetans cannot read sutras. The Thangka is a their sutra, So, remember, that with each Thangka, you are teaching the dharma to farmers, nomads, and store owners. You are reminding them to deepen practice so one day, they too, will be free. A Thangka can actually transmit initiations into different level of consciousness. But that is a rare Thangka indeed.”
“If you are offered much money by a rich man, still Thangka is spiritual. Get to know him first. Is he a good man? Is he troubled? What teachings should you put in his Thangka, for his family to help them to know the dharma better? Ask him to meditate with you. Feel him as you have felt the mountains, springs, and trees. You will know what Thangka he needs in his home.”
“And do not forget to meditate each time before you paint. Finally, until a monk blesses the Thangka, it is not yet completed. Start in meditation and finish in blessing.”
It was only after these final instructions that Tsersig turned Chodak over to Tinley, the free monk, master Thangka painter, and Tresig’s own teacher. Tinley taught him the techniques of color mixing, brush work, canvass stretching, and the differences in style between the major schools of Thangka. Of course, they meditated before each lesson and it was Tinley who blessed each finished Thangka.
And that was how Chodak became a Thangka painter, an independent, non-monastic artist. Infused with the Buddha. As his repute grew, and remembering his father’s words, Tresig gave away more Thangkas to poor people than he sold to the wealthy.
He also refused to sign his name to his work, despite his skill, for he did not think he should be “famous” just for practicing the Buddhist path in a different way. But everyone could tell a Chodak from other Thangkas. There was just something riveting to the spirit, some brilliance, like a mystical shine emanating outward, and then returning into your heart.
In time, he acquired the name Humble Thangka Rinpoche, for everyone felt the Buddha in his paintings, that it was more powerful than his undisputed superior artistry, the finest of his generation.
“Yes, Thangka is my Buddhist path.”
One night, he dreamed the symbolic four wheels of joy spinning quicker and quicker, then slowing to a stop, and then starting up again, over and and over. The wheels were standing as if arranged alongside the axle of a wagon, although there was no wagon in the dream. Then, they started to roll along, as if on a trail, to the south. Then, they disappeared into the distance, dust blowing behind.
Suddenly, he saw visions of the giant Thangka at Drepung, in Lhasa, during the Shoton Yogurt Festival. He saw the Potala and Sera Monastery. He saw a stream of prostrators arriving at the Jokhang, dusty, tired, but happy. The dream repeated over several nights.
“Was this a call to head again to Lhasa? To maybe move there?”
Then, another night, a group of young Tibetans appeared in his dream, very urban looking Lhasans, chatting in Tibetan, then switching to Chinese, and finally some sounds he assumed was a Western language. Sometimes, all three languages were spoken in the same sentence. The group was male and female, but they all interacted as equals. The same dream repeated for a week. Chodok realized he was supposed to move to Lhasa. The next morning, he announced to his family that he was leaving Sandop town. That night, the dreams ended.
He said good-bye to Quiet Flyer, now an older horse, and put him out to pasture. For reasons no one could understand, Dancing Sun was still vigorous although years past the average life span of the healthiest Tibetan mastiff. Yes, Dancing Sun could no longer run as fast, nor, more notably, was he aggressive towards strangers, the protective and yet dangerous trait of all Tibetan mastiffs. In fact, he was so downright mellow, he would stick his hand under anyone Chodak talked to receive a scratch. He tolerated children playing roughly with him, even let them climbed onto his broad back like he was a pony.
Chodak knew that is was because Dancing Sun had roamed Tibet with him and father. Dancing Sun had circumambulated Mt Kailash. Dancing Sun, too, had absorbed the essences, the energy, the spiritual mysticism of the vast land they had wandered. The journey had amped up his life force, had imbued Dancing Sun with the peacefulness of the Buddha. Dancing Sun had transformed into a Buddha in canine form. Chodok knew to take this constant companion since the age of 5 with him to Lhasa.