DO NOT TAKE MORE THAN YOU CAN HANDLE!

By the end of year 2,000, Javier moved to San Bartolo, a seaside resort South of Lima. He rented a house and turned it into an Internet place, the first one in all the beaches South of Lima. I used to spend the summer there. Javier had taken Buddhism with enthusiasm and he loved to teach people how to meditate. He had put a sign on the wall which said “We can meditate together. If interested ask the clerk. Lama Ole had given him the blessing to make it a Center.

One day I saw in the marketplace a lady I knew. She had come with her husband. She introduced me and told me they had an apartment overlooking the ocean in North beach, close to the main square. I told the Javier lived close by. They invited us to their place the following week. They wanted to meditate too.

Javier was very enthusiastic about our new friends as we walked that afternoon. They had a wonderful view of the bay. We chatted for some time and then the husband suggested that we meditate. I had taken a booklet with Three Lights Meditation. We all sat in different places. When people are beginners, it is too hard for them to sit on the floor with legs crossed. They had meditated before but we all sat on chairs. I was reading the meditation. At some point it started to feel uncomfortable. There was the sensation of some negative energy. At some point it was so strong that it almost hurt. As we finished I felt some relief. My friend invited us some avocado sandwiches and some tea. All I wanted was to leave, and fast.

I asked Javier on the way home if he had felt the negativity. It was like swimming against the tide. “Something very dark” he said. We both suspected of the man, not the lady. She was warm and open and light. He was quiet and ominous. Still, we were not sure yet.

The house Javier had rented in San Bartolo had a garage. He bought and oven and started to sell pizzas. An Argentinian lady we met had given us the information of the supplies we needed for a good pizza and she was the first employee. Later Maria, the cook and faithful servant of Javier would learn how to make the dough herself.

One evening I told Javier my friend and her husband had come to eat pizza. The house had an outdoor patio, and there were a few plastic tables and chairs where you could sit and watch the stars and eat pizza. A little later the lights went out. That was really serious, because of the twenty computers people were using. They took their pizza carry out and left. After that incident, Javier would refer to the man as Gloomy.

Now Javier was sure it was the man. He was blind, but he had developed a sixth sense. Every time they came to visit us something happened. A light bulb would explode, there would be a gas leak and danger of an explosion. And who knows what else.

Summer ended and San Bartolo became sort of a ghost city. January and February it was a happy town, but schools started in March and even though it was hot, people only came on weekends. We did not see them anymore.
In April Lam Ole came and Javier told him about Gloomy. Lama gave wise advice. “Never take more than you can handle” he said.

When you start a spiritual path you may be too enthusiastic. We may have Protection from the Lineage, but there are negative strange things out there. One must be careful and not try one-s luck.

As to the couple, one year later I met the lady in Lima and she told me she was getting divorced from Gloomy. I was very happy for her. We would not have to see her husband again!

RICARDO ON A BIKE

Many years ago, in the mid-nineties, my friend Ricardo and I were invited to a party by a beautiful British couple. They lived just a few blocks away from my house. We decided to go together, and Ricardo, who lived in the same district but some twenty blocks away, came riding his bike. He left it in my house and we walked to the party.

Bob, the host was a nice fellow and he had invited many people I knew. His wife Hillary was a nice hostess and we had a great time. It was summer and the weather was pleasant, so we stayed till very late.

Ricardo had gone upstairs to the terrace. There they could smoke. I saw him come down to the kitchen and his face lit up when he grabbed a bottle of Vodka. I enjoyed the reunion, and as people started to leave I saw Ricardo come down into the kitchen. We said good/bye and headed for my house.

Ricardo was heavily drunk and he swayed and staggered as he walked. I suggested that he sleep in the guest room since I felt he could not ride home. Alas, he insisted in riding his bike. We finally arrived home and he rode off.

I had drunk a little, but was sober enough to be scared for him riding home so drunk. It was the early morning and all I could do was go to sleep and wait. I had never seen anyone make S movements on the sidewalk before. I slept off. When I woke up, the first thing I remembered was Ricardo on his bike.

I called his home and his mother answered. I asked if he was there and she told me he was sleeping. I felt so relieved I could cry.

Some days later, we met and he told me about his ride. He had fallen asleep on his bike. Goodness knows how he got home, but he had no recollection. Some of his friends who were sitting in an outdoor table in a restaurant on the way saw him go by fast asleep at the wheel.

Ricardo always made Lopong Tsechu laugh. They were close and he had given him many blessings. Only a great Protection made him come out of this one alive!
   

COSME’S DREAM

I quit writing on this blog because in April 2014, I found an editor. In July 2014 a book based on this blog called Lamas en Lima, was published and presented at the Lima International Book Fair. Months later I was supposed to travel to the city of Piura, in the North of Peru, to present the book in the Piura Book fair.

Cosme Saavedra is a Peruvian writer. He lives in Sullana, twenty minutes away from Piura. One night he had a dream. The world was at war. There were bombs and shelling. Among all this distress and violence, a small girl stood in front of him. She said “Help me.” He was moved by her dark eyes and asked her name. ”My name is Tara”, she said. He had never heard her name nor did he know anything about Buddhism.

A couple of weeks later, he received a phone call. It was a Lima editor who wanted him to speak on the presentation of a book. This editor had published a novel of Cosme in July. He was flattered and agreed to do it. As a local writer he thrived in book fairs.

He received a copy of the book by e mail and started reading it. It was about some Tibetan priests called Lamas and a Danish disciple who had come to Lima. He looked the name TARA up and it turned out she was a Buddhist Bodhisattva. He even learned she had a mantra OM TARE TUTARE TURE SOHA.

Cosme had only received half the book by mail. As I arrived in Piura I called him and we agreed to meet in a café called El Chalán. It turned out that we had met in Lima at the Book fair. Both our books had been presented together. That was a happy coincidence! As we had coffee I gave him a copy of my book so he could finish reading it.

The next day we had a nice presentation of my book in Piura’s main square. He did not tell me anything about his dream. He really liked my book. We parted friends.

I did not see him for two years. I recently returned to Piura to present another book of short stories and a book for children. He had agreed to present my book. We met, and in Piura’s main square he told me about his dream.

It made me wonder. We do not think about the consequences of our actions, but Bodhisattvas like TARA are always watching over us. The world today is a dangerous place, but with Buddha’s teachings it could become a better place.

EL SUEÑO DE COSME

Dejé de escribir este blog porque en abril del 2014 conseguí un editor. En julio de 2014 se publicó un libro basado en este blog. El libro se llama “Lamas en Lima” y fue presentado en la Feria Internacional del Libro de Lima. Meses después yo debía viajar a la ciudad de Piura, al norte del Perú a presentar el libro en la feria del Libro de Piura.

Cosme Saavedra es un escritor peruano. El vive en Sullana, a veinte minutos de Piura. Una noche el tuvo un sueño. El mundo estaba en guerra. Había bombas y fuego de artillería. En medio de toda esta violencia y tribulación había una niña pequeña parada delante de él. Ella le dijo: “Ayúdame.” Sus ojos negros lo conmovieron y le preguntó su nombre. “Me llamo Tara”, contestó ella. El no había escuchado jamás ese nombre, ni sabía nada sobre Budismo.

Un par de semanas después el recibió una llamada telefónica: era un editor de Lima que deseaba que el presentara un libro. Este editor había publicado una novela de Cosme en julio. Es se sintió halagado y accedió a hacerlo. Como escritor local disfrutaba las ferias de libros.

Cosme recibió una copia del libro en archivo por correo electrónico y empezó a leerlo. Era sobre unos sacerdotes tibetanos llamados “lamas” y un discípulo danés que venía a Lima. Buscó el nombre TARA en un buscador: resultó que era una bodhisattva  budista. Hasta aprendió su mantra: om tare tutare ture soha.

Cosme solo había recibido medio archivo. Cuando yo llegué a Piura lo llamé y quedamos en encontrarnos en un café llamado “El Chalán” en el centro. Resulta que nos habíamos conocido en la feria del Libro de Lima. Nuestros libros habían sido presentados juntos. Esa era una afortunada coincidencia. Mientras tomábamos café le di una copia de mi libro para que pudiera terminar de leerlo.

Al día siguiente tuvimos una bonita presentación, pero el no me dijo nada de su sueño. Le había gustado mi libro de verdad. Nos despedimos amigos.
No lo volví a ver en dos años. Regresé a Piura recientemente a presentar otro libro de relatos cortos y un libro para niños. El iba a presentar mi nuevo libro. En la Plaza de Armas de Piura me contó su sueño.

Eso me hizo meditar. Nosotros no pensamos sobre las consecuencias de nuestros actos, pero Bodhisattvas como TARA están vigilándonos siempre. El mundo hoy en día es un lugar peligroso, pero con las enseñanzas del Buda podría volverse un lugar mejor.

…AND THE BIRDS KEPT SILENT

One day, my daughter Stefanie came home with a cage: it contained four parakeets. She had been downtown and felt compassion for the birds, and bought them. We decided to hang the cage under a tree in the small garden I have at the back of the house. Anytime you went into the garden you could hear the parakeets chirping away.

There was a table next to the tree, and we would always sit on the chairs around it. Javier would always sit there whenever we came home and I had to change clothes or do something else. He would wait there for me smoking a cigarette or meditating.

I guess at the time he must have been practicing Dorje Sempa. He realized that whenever he started reciting the one hundred syllable mantra, the parakeets hushed and kept silent until he finished the meditation. As soon as he dedicated merit, they would resume their chirping.

He told me this and at first I didn’t believe him. The next time I stayed with him and he started a meditation. The parakeets went mum. I witnessed they kept silent until he finished and dedicated merit.

I still wonder what could have happened: either meditation sends mind waves and the birds get them; or the sound of the mantra is so powerful it stuns them.

Change is constant in Samsara. Now my daughter lives in Texas and she gave away the parakeets when she left. But the tree is still there, and whenever I sit under it, I remember Javier meditating while four parakeets kept silent.

DEATH WITH HIS TEACHER (PHOWA HAS GOOD RESULTS)

Javier Geigner was the life of the Buddhist Center in Lima where he lived, for many years. He answered the phone, opened the door, taught the different meditations to newcomers, and was well loved by all. Being blind was no problem for learning. His friends would get for him different conferences of Lama Ole, and he would listen to them over and over. Then he would say ten minute eggs based on what he would hear. He was very keen in practice, and he was almost finishing Ngnondro when Lama Ole came to Lima and told him:”Javier, you are a great Yogui.” That he told him in private, otherwise it would have awakened some people´s envy. That time he also told him “You and I will always be together.” In the months that followed we would find out how true that would come out to be.

By 2010 I first noticed he was losing weight. We checked this and planned a diet that would make him gain weight. Then in January 2011, he told me he had a pain in his lower back. I took him to the doctor. The X=rays showed some scoliosis, so we thought that was that. Later since the pain continued, I took him to my acupuncturist. After a month of treatment with no good results, she told me we had better take him for a general checkup.

We did and after a long week having all sorts of tests, we found out he had a very big tumor in his left lung: it was cancer. Javier had smoked one pack of cigarettes a day for more than fifty years, and he had always known that could happen to him. Even lama Ole had asked him to quit smoking so he could live longer. Needless to say, he started a treatment after a positive biopsy.

Lama Ole came to Lima and we had a retreat in a hotel in Miraflores. We had morning and afternoon sessions, but people slept in their homes or their hotels. By then Javier was in so much pain he stayed in the Center and listened to the sessions by Skype. Finally one afternoon he made an effort and went. As we were leaving, as soon as we reached the street, he lighted a cigarette and I was really upset by that.

The other people living in the Center were very respectful and put up with his coughing and fading strength as he got chemotherapy. The time came when I got an early morning call from Javier. He didn´t want to wake me up, but he thought he was bleeding. I drove quickly to the Center and after calling his doctor and making him a blood test, I took him to the hospital. That was on a Wednesday morning end of August. He had been feeling better the two previous days. We had been making plans for the following days. He wanted to write a letter to Lama Ole, and another to the Sangha who were being so nice to him.

In Europe, Monday of that same week Lama Ole had a dream about Lima Peru. He told that to Natalia, and both thought something might happen to Javier. Lama Ole asked Natalia to call Alfonso here in Lima and have him arrange communication by Skype for Lama Ole with Javier. He had something to tell him. Alfonso had something important to do and forgot all about it. He would soon be sorry.

Javier was bleeding internally. By Thursday he was very ill. The doctor told me he may die. Friday morning he was taken to Intensive Care. Carmen had come to keep us company bringing a bag I needed. We were having coffee when he died. As we went to the floor where he had been I was told to go to the doctor´s office. We rushed down several floors down the stairs and went into his office. There he told me Javier had passed away. I called Sonia, his first wife and also his nephew. Carmen called the Sangha. Lama Ole found out about it half an hour after Javier had died. As generous as always, he wanted to help him and looked for him in Bardo, but he was nowhere to be found. Lama says he had gone straight to Dewachen. He had allowed us to have Javier´s wake in his room in the Center. As we gathered round him to meditate, we could sense there was no energy there. Later one of his daughters arrived from Argentina. I took her inside the room and she also sensed there was no one in the room but us two.

We cremated Javier on Sunday morning. All the Sangha attended. That evening I had a dream. I was in a place where there was a Gompa. They wouldn’t let me in, but I could see Javier sitting in a garden in the sun. He was smoking. Then they all gathered in the gompa to recite mantras. I could hear the most beautiful masculine voice singing a sadhana. As I woke up and sat in bed I could still hear that voice. I will never forget it. I was nor the only one to dream about Javier in a gompa. Other people also did. Javier had another daughter who lived in Madrid. She later came and took the urn with his ashes to Karma Guen in Malaga, as Javier had wished.

Now, how could Lama Ole be so close to Javier he could sense something might happen to him? Javier had done several Phowas and he had taken Buddhist practice very seriously. He had even met Karmapa and had a very moving exchange of words. So if you are a good practitioner you can even skip Bardo. I have had a few dreams with messages from Javier. All I can tell you is he is having a great time. I guess all it takes is a great teacher and a good student to go straight to Dewachen.

You can see Lama Ole´s yearly schedule in the internet. So when is the next Phowa near you? Don´t miss it!

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LA MUERTE CON SU MAESTRO

Javier Geigner le daba vida al Centro Budista Camino del Diamante en Lima, donde vivió por ocho años. El contestaba el teléfono, abría la puerta, enseñaba a los nuevos las distintas meditaciones; y era muy querido por todos. El ser ciego desde los cincuenta y tantos  no era un problema para que el aprendiera. Sus jóvenes amigos le conseguían distintas conferencias grabadas de Lama Ole Nydahl y él las escuchaba una y otra vez. Luego solía hacer charlas de diez minutos basado en lo que había escuchado.

Javier era muy aplicado en su práctica diaria y estaba casi terminando en Ngnondro (Prácticas Preliminares) cuando Lama Ole vino a Lima y le dijo: “Javier, eres un gran Yogui.” Esto por supuesto se lo dijo en privado, porque si no hubiera despertado la envidia en algunos. Esa vez también le dijo “You and I, we shall always be together” (Tu y yo siempre vamos a estar juntos.)En los meses siguientes averiguaríamos cuán cierto eso podía resultar.

Por el año 2010, me di cuenta que Javier había perdido peso. Lo comprobamos con una balanza y planeamos una dieta rica en calorías que le hiciera engordar. Luego en enero del 2011, me comentó que tenía un dolor en el lado izquierdo de la espalda. Lo llevé al doctor. Las radiografías mostraban una leve escoliosis y entonces pensamos que eso era todo. Como el dolor continuó, lo llevé  a mi acupunturista. Después de un mes de tratamiento sin buenos resultados, la doctora me dijo que sería mejor hacerle un chequeo general. Eso hicimos por mayo y después de una semana de someterlo a todo tipo de pruebas  le encontraron un tumor muy grande en el pulmón izquierdo: era canceroso.

Javier había fumado una cajetilla diaria de cigarrillos por más de cincuenta años y siempre había sabido que esto le podía ocurrir. Hasta Lama Ole le había dicho: “Deja de fumar amigo, vivirás más tiempo.” Demás está decir que comenzó un tratamiento después de una neumonía y una biopsia que dio positivo.

Lama Ole vino a Lima y tuvimos un retiro en un hotel de Miraflores. Teníamos sesiones por la mañana y por la tarde. La gente se iba a dormir a sus casas o cuartos de hotel. Por ese entonces Javier tenía tanto dolor que se quedó en el Centro y escuchaba las sesiones vía Skype. Finalmente una tarde hizo un esfuerzo y llegó allá. Al momento de retirarnos, apenas llegamos a la vereda delante del hotel, prendió un cigarrillo y me molesté mucho por eso. Más adelante dejaría de fumar. Las otras personas que vivían en el Centro eran muy respetuosas y toleraban el ruido de su tos y que le disminuyeran las fuerzas como resultado de la quimioterapia. 

Llegó el día en que recibí una llamada de Javier muy temprano. No me quería despertar, pero pensaba que estaba sangrando. Manejé con rapidez al Centro y después de hablar con su doctor y hacerle una prueba de sangre lo llevé al hospital. Eso fue una mañana de un miércoles a finales de agosto. El se había sentido mejor los días previos. Habíamos hecho planes para los siguientes días. El quería escribirle un correo a Lama Ole y otro a la Sangha( el grupo de practicantes) los cuales habían sido tan buenos con él. Estando sus dos hijas fuera del país, ellos habían sido como una familia para él.

En Europa, el lunes de esa semana lama Ole soñó con Lima, Perú. Se lo contó a Natalia Rivas y ambos pensaron que algo le sucedía a Javier. El martes, Lama Ole le pidió a Natalia que contactara a Alfonso en Lima para que concertara una comunicación por Skype con Javier. El lama quería hablar con él. Alfonso tuvo algo urgente que hacer y se olvidó del encargo. Pronto se arrepentiría.

Javier estaba sangrando internamente. El jueves estaba ya muy grave. El doctor me dijo que podía morir. El viernes por la mañana temprano lo toqué y estaba helado. Lo llevaron a cuidados intensivos. Carmen, una compañera del Centro había venido a la clínica a acompañarme y a traerme un maletín que necesitábamos. Estábamos las dos tomando café en la cafetería cuando Javier murió. Sin saber nada subimos al piso y me dijeron que fuera al consultorio del doctor. Bajamos rápidamente varios pisos por las escaleras y entramos .Entonces me dijo que Javier había fallecido.

Llamé a Sonia, su primera esposa para que le avisara a su hija mayor, y también a su sobrino. Al rato me llamó Sammy, la otra hija desde Buenos Aires. Carmen le avisó a la Sangha. Lama Ole se enteró que Javier había muerto, media hora después. Con su generosidad habitual, el lama lo quiso ayudar en ese trance y lo buscó en el Bardo (estado intermedio después de la muerte), pero no lo pudo encontrar. El lama dice que Javier se fue derecho a Dewachen (Paraíso). Nos permitieron velar a Javier en el que había sido su cuarto en el Centro. Cuando nos sentamos todos alrededor del ataúd podíamos sentir que no había energía alguna. Nos reunimos a hacer el ritual del Phowa por él, pero no era necesario. Más tarde llegó Sammy de la Argentina. La hice entrar a la recámara y ella también sintió una gran ausencia. Solo estábamos las dos. Para los Tibetanos el alma permanece en el cuerpo a la altura del corazón por tres días después de muerta la persona. En los velorios normales hay una “presencia”.

Cremamos a Javier el domingo por la mañana. Todos los amigos y practicantes acudieron. Esa noche tuve un sueño: yo estaba en un lugar donde había un templo. No me dejaban entrar, pero podía ver a Javier sentado en el pasto de un jardín bajo el sol. ¡Estaba fumando! Luego todas las personas que estaban allá entraron al templo y empezaron a decir mantras. Pude escuchar la voz masculina más hermosa cantando una sadhana. Cuando me desperté y me senté en la cama podía todavía escuchar la voz maravillosa. Nunca la podré olvidar. Yo no fui la única en soñar con Javier diciendo mantras en una Gompa (templo). Otras personas cercanas también lo hicieron.

Javier tenía otra hija, la cual vivía en Madrid. Ella vino después y se llevó la urna con sus cenizas a Karma Guen, un lugar de retiros budista cerca de Málaga. Allí hay un templo muy grande y viven algunos lamas tibetanos. Allí vivió varios años el lama Mipham, padre del Karmapa Thaye Dorje. Descansar allí era lo que Javier hubiera querido.

Ahora ¿Cómo Lama Ole pudo estar tan cerca de Javier que presintió que algo le iba a pasar? Javier había hecho varios Phowas ( el primero en 2002) y tomaba su práctica con mucha seriedad. Hasta había viajado a Karma Guen a conocer al Karmapa Thaye Dorje y había tenido un intercambio de palabras muy emocionante. Entonces, si eres un buen practicante ¿te puedes saltar el Bardo?

He tenido otros sueños con mensajes de Javier. Solo les puedo decir que la está pasando muy bien. Creo que toma un gran maestro y un buen discípulo para ir directo a Dewachen. Lama Ole Nydahl tiene su agenda anual en internet. ¿Cuándo será el próximo Phowa? Habría que averiguarlo.

LIBERATION BY LISTENING

Kalu Rinpoche was the first Buddhist teacher Lama Ole Nydahl had after he met Karmapa. He was very well known in Europe and he was loved by all who knew him. He founded centers in France and wrote many books.

In 1993, we obtained a cassette called “Liberation by Listening”, which came from France. That meant that if you listened to it you could get liberated. It had him reciting Bardo Thodol, what Tibetans say to a dying person so that he finds his way to a better rebirth. It also had some pujas or prayers.
As soon as we put the cassette on and started to listen to the lama reciting the text in Tibetan, we had a great experience. I could feel my Chakras, Nadis, all the nerve centers in my body activating. It was unforgettable to listen to his husky voice (he was an old man by then).

A couple of years went by and suddenly there was a chance to put the cassette to good use. The father of a member of the Sangha , a lady we’ll call Sandra, passed away. But he was not happy with this, and had no intention to follow the bardo. So he stayed on in the house and made a lot of noise. Doors and windows would slam by themselves. The glass panes of windows would make creaking noises, objects would fall: all the things that a playful ghost would do. Sandra and her mother were scared stiff, because no matter how much they had loved the deceased, from then on since he had left his body; they preferred he would follow the path of no return.

Sandra was telling me this while she looked at some pictures of lamas I had in the room. Then she said: "How cute he looks, he seems to belong to another world”. It was a picture of Kalu Rinpoche in his old age with some pigeons. You could tell he was a spiritual being. I then associated him with the cassette and talked to her about it. She decided then and there to take it home and play it, since she was ready to do anything to get rid of those unwanted noises.

After a week I met her in Meditation and she told me: “I can’t believe it, but the first time we played the cassette, the strange noises ceased.” Either the mantras transcended language and acted on their own; or when you died you became polyglot and understood all languages. The Lama in Bardo Thodol gave instructions to the deceased, telling them what they would find in the path they had to follow.

Sandra continued to play the cassette for several days, and later she gave it back to me. She was relieved there were strange noises no more. Her father had listened to Bardo Thodol and had gone through in search for the light.

As gossip is the best means of advertising, there were a few others afflicted with the same problem: close relatives who after sudden death refused to go and manifested themselves as best they could terrorizing the living.

The most important case was that of Alice’s ex-husband, a poet who had died in a plane crash. After his death he had gone on writing. His daughter had moved in to his apartment near Larco street and his old typewriter would click every afternoon, the keys moving by themselves. The daughter later bought a computer for her children and got rid of the typewriter. Then the computer would get started when nobody was there. But our great national poet had died twenty years ago, so he didn’t know a thing about computers. So our friendly ghost would manage to start the computer, but didn’t know how to store information, and even less to print it. Had he had the knowledge, it would have been very fortunate for the heirs, to go on publishing posthumous work.

There was no doubt it was him because the grandchildren were able to see him, and the eldest granddaughter would feel good in her granddad’s company if she was left alone in the house. He would be seen in a leather jacket and checkered scarf. “He looks just the same, grandma.”, they would tell Alice. They were proud of their grandfather’s presence. “He takes care of us”, the grandchildren would say.

But he was not a quiet ghost, and following his bohemian habits, one New Year’s Eve when everyone was out, he had a party with other ghosts. The neighbors complained and called the caretaker and the police, but there was nobody home. There were many, but could not be seen.

Alice consulted a medium, and she advised her to have masses said for him, not a few, but like one hundred, and to say one thousand prayers. Alice started the task, but got tired along the way. Finally she confided in me and I lent her the cassette. I then forgot all about it.

I met her some time later and she was distraught. “Albert has already left”, she told me sadly. “We do not hear or see him anymore”. Our poet had left and had gone somewhere else to keep on writing. He was never seen or heard again.
Needless to say, our cassette was used as many times as it was needed, always with good results. With present technology, my friend Juan made a CD with Kalu Rinpoche’s recitation of Bardo Thodol. There it is, ready to help any confused spirit who resists the idea he is dead, or who ignores he has to abandon persons or things he is attached to because he has a long way to go for his own good.

As to Kalu Rinpoche, he left this world, but he is already back from Bardo, which is the state after death which lasts forty-nine days in most cases. As any Boddhisattva of enlightened mind who returns to help all sentient beings; his Tulku is already in Siliguri and was officially recognized by Dalai Lama. They say he is a beautiful boy. He already passed the Tulku test and identified personal objects from his previous life from among many objects.

For one thing is certain: great Buddhist teachers always come back to help sentient beings. That is the Bosshisattva vow.

MISFORTUNES OF A BEAUTY

She was a real Spanish beauty: she had long jet black hair, brown eyes and good looks. As she walked down the street, or on riding a bus; men would tell her:”- lady, you are beautiful!”She was in her late forties or early fifties, but she looked much younger. The Sangha had already moved to Ribeyro street, and it was growing.

Giselle was a new arrival .She came for a Phowa and stayed. She got along well with everybody because of her outgoing personality. She was a hot little divorcee with two grown children. She had married really young, in her teens.

We practiced together and later started going out with other members of the Sangha. She was a really good cook and enjoyed preparing fabulous dishes for us. After meditation, on weekends, we usually shared some food. She was eager to help with that. What she didn’t understand well was Buddhism .  She liked Lama Ole but still was a devout of Little Jesus of Prague, a small image  of whom she had in her bedroom. Now next to it she had placed a picture of Lama Ole and an illustration of Mahakala . She enjoyed meditation though, and was trying hard to finish Small Refuge.

She had had several boyfriends after she divorced ; and she didn’t enjoy being alone. So one evening I offered a dinner party, I was glad to see her with an escort. The man was plain, chubby and had a moustache. Giselle had bright a delicious souflée and he a bottle of wine.

That day of spring there was a beautiful moon in the sky, but early in the evening there was an eclipse. There were a dozen friends over and as we chatted, I hadn’t realized Giselle and he beau  were arguing until they raised their voices. “Bad omen” I thought.

The next morning she called me and told me how she had met him. She had gone to visit a friend and she had been introduced to her brother. They had instantly liked each other and started dating. He had been very protective to her and helped her with fixing her car, which had been giving her problems lately. Though it was only the beginning of spring and it was not so warm, they had spent a weekend in his sister’s beach house South of Lima.

He had been the favorite grandson of a very rich man, and had been brought up accordingly. After his grandfather died when he was in his twenties, he had lost all privileges .He was in his early forties and still hadn’t found himself. Though Giselle was happy, there was something I didn’t like about him. I just didn’t know what it was.

Time went by and it was the end of December. We were going to celebrate New year’s Eve in the Center on Ribeyro street. Somebody was baking the turkey. We needed a side-dish so I remembered Giselle knew how to make  wonderful rice with black olives. I rang her up to ask her for the recipe and she sounded distressed at the other end. Her suitor had revealed his true self. He had become violent one evening scaring the wits out of her and had even locked her up in the bedroom. After the row she had tried to break up, but he was obsessed with her and had started stalking her. As she rejected him, he would call her several times during the night to insult her and he seemed to have a large repertoire of denigrating  names, specially lots of synonyms for prostitute. He would also do the same with e-mails. He sent them with all types of letters and in all colors.

Giselle asked her friend information about her brother and it turns out he had done time in jail for something related to drugs. Our Cinderella’s prince had turned out to be an ogre. He was more than forty years old and still lived off his mother. He had made plans to work with her, but he had only been using her.

As I prepared the rice I got a call. Giselle was desperate because he was on the intercom of her apartment building, calling her names. After a while she called again. He had managed to get into the building and was yelling insults at her door. I told her to call the police.

We had a nice evening at the Buddhist center with Carmen Salas and Rosa Rivas, Javier, Alfredo and all the other good friends. We talked and danced all night.

The next day I called to find out what had happened .It seems after a while the man had left all of his own. Still our beauty felt in peril.

After a few weeks she managed with a lawyer cousin  , to get a restraining court order to keep the man away. He now couldn’t get close to her. She thought that had done it, but that was far from true.

The man started calling in turn all the members of the Sangha to “·talk about Giselle”. He said he was madly in love with her, that he didn’t know what she had done to him, but that she had bewitched him. That she had done the Kamasutra to him and that he couldn’t forget her. The more she rejected him the more he insisted.

He would call us with the excuse of talking about Buddhism, then as soon as he was in he would change the subject. Carlos, a psychologist volunteered to give him therapy. We all listened to him but tried to make him understand there was no hope. In the end I begged him not to call me anymore.

Giselle started dating a blonde surfer. One day as she was getting into his car to go to the beach, she saw the man standing in the corner of the street looking at her window. Soft kitty tough kitty, she pretended not to see him.

Sometimes when I look at the moon I remember that lunar eclipse and all the misfortune it brought to our beauty. What was important is that we reacted as one and helped her during that period. We stood by her until the jilted beau faded into oblivion.