From Field to Fork

By Felice Shekar

At Shambhala Mountain Center, people often talk about being “on the land.” The SMC site, the land itself, plays a central role in the experience of those who live here and those who simply visit. This is an educational center where you can immerse yourself in the realities of nature.

It is possible, however, to not only live on the land at SMC but also to let the land live in you. As the community’s garden grows and thrives, vegetables and salad greens make the short hop from fields to the dining hall. It is possible to find homegrown arugula and radishes in your lunch salad and garnishes. The taste of food this fresh is delightful and unmistakable.

According to Sophia DeMaio, Land Steward, “SMC is serious about sustainability. A generous family foundation has helped to support our garden’s development, and the support of the entire community keeps it going.”

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More than fine eating, perhaps, the garden greens in the salad bins at meal time speak to a greater shared good that is emblematic of SMC. The short journey of healthy food to the dishes of community members parallels the way various SMC departments, such as guest services and development, create an interwoven experience for guests and staff that serves the needs of many in ways that are not always visible.

As DeMaio and the community look ahead, “it would be great to host gardening and permaculture programs and bring folks together to learn about these systems. We’d also like to build a small environmental library where community members and guests can learn about the land and working with the land.” With the help of donations, the SMC garden team will expand its crops, develop sustainability further with an effective composting system, and cultivate other projects that reflect the community’s commitment to living well and thoughtfully with the land.

Kevin Korb, Master Gardener, is excited about the future. “This fall we will be constructing a 42-foot diameter geodesic dome greenhouse that will allow us to grow food throughout the winter.” Korb also envisions chickens for eggs and a raspberry path for guests to enjoy. The best part of Kevin’s job is the connection of the food he helps grow to those that he savors meals with. “Here at SMC, I know every cook that uses our produce and I sit and eat every meal with this great community of staff and guests.”

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To many, the presence of garden fresh foods in the next meal is simply an occasion to enjoy tasty, healthy food. But this is also an opportunity to savor the systemic dedication of SMC to serve many needs at any one time.

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FullSizeRenderWith a degree in Evolutionary Psychology, a master’s degree in Conflict Resolution, and previous immersion in Middle Eastern Studies, Felice Shekar has blended her business acumen with spiritual and peacemaking studies to promote conscious, systemic success to a number of organizations in service to a common good.  As a published author, both in academia and the mass market, coupled with her communication and public speaking skills, she brings common sense solutions to her position of Manager of Development at SMC. Felice promotes donor engagement that helps those who visit the land to understand the financial successes and challenges of an organization such as SMC.

Floral Notes and Bardo: Bliss in the Thick of It?

By Travis Newbill

Floral Notes and Bardo: The Creative Chronicles of a Shambhala Mountain Resident is a regular feature on the SMC blog in which a member of our staff/community shares his experience of living as part of Shambhala Mountain Center.

Slipped a clean foot, new sock, into a old shoe… which was soaked by last night’s cold rain.

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Oh, summer afternoons in the hammock… bits of sweetness…

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The narrative has been: Shambhala Mountain Center is a micro-cosm of the larger world, society, whatever.  All the components of modern life are here (except for indoor plumbing in some cases): job, house, spiritual practice, community, romantic partner, money, politics, and all the rest.  And the great journey of a long stay at SMC is driven by the question of: how to do it?  And, not just that, but:

How to do it well?  How to do it fully?

And, I have been asking that big old HOW a lot — in my journal in the morning, on this blog, in my head.  And, I’m tired of asking, on some level.  Tired of trying to find the material formula: arrange life like this, schedule it like this, or something.

But, on another level, the claustrophobia of overly-full, perhaps overly-ambitious, daily life, has been wearing itself out and opening into a soft nowness, which is humorous, apparent, obvious.

The question: how to really do it?

These teachings, Shambhala, claim to be about actually recognizing the awakened mind, discovering sacredness, in everything — in the muck of modern life, everywhere.

Okay…

The question: is that for real?  Can I really, genuinely, have that experience?  Can the circumstances of my life, which I often find oppressive (while having some sense that it is my craving for more — time, comfort, etc. — which is actually oppressive) actually open up into joy?

Rather than the teachings being some kind of tranquilizer, which might help me to cope with my dreadful life, full of obligations (that I lay on myself), might the material of my life actually be the teaching which allows me to become liberated from all sense of struggle?

In the thick of it, might I discover buttery gold bliss?

I think so.

That seems to happen.

Okay… and so the journey is: how to get good at that so it can happen with more frequency, stability, and potency.

Shambhala Mountain Center: the contemplative container which provides the opportunity to learn to live in the modern world (without a toilet in the house).

— August 20, 2015

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PortraitTravis Newbill is a writer, musician, and aspirant on the path of meditation.  He currently resides at Shambhala Mountain Center, where he serves in the roles of Marketing Associate and Shambhala Guide — a preliminary teaching position.  Follow Travis on twitter: @travisnewbill

Floral Notes and Bardo: Occasional Showers

By Travis Newbill

Floral Notes and Bardo: The Creative Chronicles of a Shambhala Mountain Resident is a regular feature on the SMC blog in which a member of our staff/community shares his experience of living as part of Shambhala Mountain Center.

Big old family visit — blood family, mixing with land family.  A whole week of eventfulness, with gaps.  Such eventfulness these days.  So many gaps I refuse, deny, ignore.

~~~

This is Jake.  He barks at me ferociously every chance he gets.  He and his family live in the walls.

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Life here in the cabin: peeing in a cup, carrying water jug up the long hill in the shiny new car — some weird American version of life: undeveloped in ways — such as no toilet, no sink (in the house) and yet, shiny new car.  Not carrying jug on my head, not even lugging it up in the back of a junky pick-up.  Drinking fine tea in the morning, imported from Taiwan.  Here on the computer, typing, looking out at the timeless mountainside.  Pardon me, time to pee in my cup and dump it out the window.

Heather pees in a bucket.  She hasn’t peed one single time yet today.  I’ve probably peed about seven times since waking two and a half hours ago.  Doing my best to fit in the rest of my desired life events: practice, tea, writing, brushing my teeth.  It becomes, perhaps, a bit more difficult without toilet and sink — because then all normal little life things take longer.  We collect dishes in a bin, then I truck them down the hill once a week, wash them in the machine, and then bring them back up.  I fill the water jugs a couple of times a week.  I won’t go into details about the poop situation.

Now, I have to cart Heather over to the shower.  This will be her first one in nine days.  Heather is injured — sprained ankle.  So, all things a bit more-more difficult.  Maybe I’ll tell that story later, and more about the gimp-adventure.  Now, time for her to crawl down the stairs.  I’ll meet her at the bottom and toast a bagel for her, then she’ll crawl down some mroe stairs and I’ll meet her at the bottom with her crutches.  Then, she’ll hobble over to the car and I’ll deliver her to the bathhouse down the road.  She’ll hobble over to the women’s side, hobble inside over to the shower, and 45 minutes later I’ll pick her up, drop her back off at the house, and cruise down the hill to work.  I might have time for a shower today also.

— August 19, 2015

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PortraitTravis Newbill is a writer, musician, and aspirant on the path of meditation.  He currently resides at Shambhala Mountain Center, where he serves in the roles of Marketing Associate and Shambhala Guide — a preliminary teaching position.  Follow Travis on twitter: @travisnewbill

Reclaiming Prajna

By Jamie Woodworth

It’s a widely agreed upon sentiment, among both newcomers and veteran Shambhalians, that this mountain valley has a quality of spaciousness beyond its physical boundaries. It opens up and unfolds more and more as you walk upon it. The feeling is palpable in the wind, and the life—always at play—gregariously engaging. The place has “juice.”

You can feel that presence when you first enter. It’s the drala. It converses with you in the moments you experience in-between yourself and the world. It’s awakened by the people who live here, over many cycles of leadership and life. And, if you follow your intuition, your felt sense of this place, you may be guided towards the place we call Prajna.

Early photograph of Prajna before remodels done by the Vajra Regent and Sakyong Mipham — provided by Greg Smith.

Prajna translates roughly as “transcendental wisdom.” The spirit of that word abides in the history of this site. Prajna was the home of the founder of Shambhala, Chögyam Trungpa Rinpoche until 1986, then home of the Vajra Regent, and Sakyong Mipham Rinpoche thereafter, until a fire razed it in 2009. The causes of the fire remain somewhat nebulous. It has been described as a reminder of “the potent truth of impermanence.”

burned1_900Photo of Prajna after the fire — provided by Denise Weunsch

Prajna, in its youth, in wreckage, and in emptiness, has enduringly served as a container for authentic encounters. Community members have reflected on the love and guardianship that Trungpa Rinpoche instilled in the heart of Prajna, from its initial settlement up until today. It was a stage to many stories—our teacher’s presence magnetized a vast array of situations. The deck was where he wrote books and chants, held council with his cabinet, and sat down for drinks with his friends and visitors. Prajna’s deck was the window through which he viewed the world, and where the world came to greet him. During his stay, that house received and held the hearts of people who came to share moments of delicate vulnerability. That energy still irrigates relationships unfolding here at SMC. Acharya Noel McLellan reflects,

“Many things happened there that were of personal significance to individuals. Tiny as it was, it was a place where many people met the Sakyong. It always seemed to me to be a part of the tent culture—the walls weren’t solid barriers in a sense. The energy inside the house permeated the whole area.”

Michael Gayner, Executive Director of Shambhala Mountain Center recollects his experience in Prajna at the Seminary he attended in 1994, “that was really where I understood the role of service to the community, and from that, service to all sentient beings, and infinite commitment to being of benefit to the world” (M. Gayner, 2015).

Prajna had a way of defining a path for those who came to both visit and live on the land. The leadership here at SMC has a conviction to keep paths running to and from it, even though its former substance has moved on. We had been discussing a way to reinvent the empty space into something accessible, and ensuring it too can still benefit the world.

Thus began our pavilion project, an endeavor made possible by the generosity of the Shambhala Trust.

IMG_6138Construction site, 2015 — photo by Jamie Woodworth

The Shambhala Trust fundraises and grants money to causes that further the vision of Chögyam Trungpa Rinpoche. Their largesse helps to disseminate the ideal of an ‘enlightened society,’ by uplifting many projects inside and outside the Shambhala Buddhist community. Some projects include: The Prison Mindfulness Institute, and the Reciprocity Foundation. John Sennhauser, an original member of the Trust, evoked a special kind of enthusiasm for the Prajna reclamation project in particular, “the current Shambhala Trust was founded in 1995, you know—and, it happened at a meeting in Prajna. I was thinking about this to myself the other day. Things really came full circle—it’s great.” More than that, it’s a homecoming for many trust members, who themselves lived in tents at the Prajna site. There’s a certain air of poignancy coming back 20 years later to the memory of their old lives, and old times with the Sakyong. Funding this project, beyond spreading the Shambhala vision, is a way of dusting off that piece of their hearts, two decades later. Moreover, it’s a service to all the current volunteers, staff, and visitors fresh on the land, who can now enjoy Prajna in a whole new way.

There was a lot of intentionality behind the choice of the pavilion. When Sakyong Mipham Rinpoche visited the crumbling remains of his old house with John in 2009, he voiced how great it would be to let this land return to nature, and reclaim it as a place where people could sit, contemplate, and rest. He laid the groundwork for the grant proposal to the Trust, and the vision our leadership outlined in it. Michael Gayner described the pavilion as a potential “pilgrimage site” where people could reconnect with the Drala that flowed through Trungpa Rinpoche’s court. Placing a pavilion in this spot is a way of re-energizing Prajna, and making the Dralas available once again. Attracting people to this spot will accomplish the broader goal of reawakening the naturally present magic that Trungpa Rinpoche illuminated so many years ago. The Prajna project will be ultimately completed with the construction of a Stupa some years in the future, once the overall energetics of the land “are proper.”

With this in mind, a lot of consideration went into construction and design. Eva Wong, our Feng Shui consultant, provided guidelines on how to orient the pavilion, and how to stylize it. Danny Boyce, our project coordinator, described how she encouraged the use of certain design elements to make sure it seamlessly conducted the flow of energy. The materials were also all locally sourced from the land, and from an additional parcel of private property about 25 miles away from the SMC property line. The pavilion contains a total of 35 timbers, which were meticulously chosen by our leadership team, Peter Haney, Jared Leveille, Sophie DeMaio, and Josh Halper. Four rocks from the land were also collected to be “scribed” onto the bottom of the posts, to provide an organic transition from the wooden posts down into the earth.

The thoughtfulness of the construction is a manifestation of SMC’s commitment to not only accomplish a job, but do profoundly good work, Michael commented. Danny outlined how the whole structure was masterfully engineered—the pavilion is equipped to hold at least “three feet of snow and twenty people on it.” It will even have a handicap ramp. It’s definitely an edifice that will withstand the test of time, and be enjoyed by many people.

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SMC staff constructing the pavilion, 2015 — photo by Jamie Woodworth

The moment when the frames of the pavilion were raised was itself a demonstration of the love and energy that’s still present at Prajna. Lifting the sides together required the participation of many members of the community, and more people actually showed up than needed. For two hours, a sizable group of staff rallied and pieced together a collective vision. Everybody was pretty proud to have their hands in it.

Michael, reflecting upon that teamwork, said with a smile, “our workers brought in a tremendous amount of heart and skill to Prajna.”

Really, the whole endeavor speaks to not only the continuing spirit of the land there, but also the strength of the community that sustains the beauty of Shambhala Mountain Center, in both material and non-material ways.

Our teachers nurtured a powerful heritage for Prajna. That cadence of life present during their residence is a thread we’re weaving through this present moment, this community, and into the fabric of what Shambhala has yet to become. One Summer evening, about 16 years ago, the Sakyong was standing on the deck of his old house, writing this poem, reflecting on the perfection of being in this place:

A drink from mountain stream—
Lost water comes to haunt me.
Surrounding loneliness,
Mind peers into vast blue sky.
A distant yogin’s love song plays upon my ears.
The silence of this valley
Sings the cry of liberation

Mind paces like a caged tiger.
Heart drowns in inexpressible chasm.
Let us bring it all to the path of bodhi.
Let us climb this mountain of uncertainty.
Look!
Look again!
The sun is rising.
Its golden-orange hue commands us to exhale.

Sakyong Mipham Rinpoche
26 July, 1999

As our lives collide and mesh, we’re looking forward to the poetry of our future—and some new memories housed in this sanctuary, built by the hands of our friends.

IMG_6417 copyThe Shambhala Trust at Prajna, 2015 — photo by Jamie Woodworth

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headshotJamie Woodworth earned her Bachelors of Arts in Environmental Studies and Women and Gender Studies from the University of Colorado at Boulder. Currently, she is a Masters student in Human Ecology at Lund University in Sweden. Her ethnographic research in Iceland couples ecological thinking with feminist theory. Understanding sustainability from a solutionary point of view is the pivoting point for her studies. In the past, Jamie has worked as an outreach coordinator for CU’s Environmental Center, a manager for Colorado Public Interest Research Group, and interned for the Chasing Ice film crew.

Floral Notes and Bardo: Summertime Qqueeze

Floral Notes and Bardo: The Creative Chronicles of a Shambhala Mountain Resident is a regular feature on the SMC blog in which a member of our staff/community shares his experience of living as part of Shambhala Mountain Center.

My room is full of flies, I’m surrounded by strangers, I’ve not showered in two days.  I missed breakfast.  We’ve been asked to not ask to go into the kitchen to fetch leftovers anymore.  I meditated for too long this morning and now I’m stressed out.  Gonna be late to work.  No shower again.  Gotta take the shit out to the shit bucket.  Later drive it down the hill.

Decided to hang out last night.

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Phish shows in headphones in the forest behind Manjushri house.  Surrendering to summer-time craziness on the land.  Not a time for introspection.  A time for scattered activity and “hanging in there” and/or maybe “hanging out.”  Not much pacing or rhythmic progress.

Been reading Ethan’s new book and listening to the Phish shows —  Good.

Haven’t been writing the blog because — no time in the morning before heading into the office.  I’ve been prioritizing showers — that’s no way to make art at SMC.  Sufficient sleep, enough time on the cushion to feel like I’m “doing it.”

Meahwhile, so many books on shelves that I can’t believe I’m neglecting to spend time with.  Magical secret books from Trungpa.

Expensive tea in my pot running low.  Got a big bag of cheap maté now.

I’ve been slapped around a bit by the forces which won’t allow me to impose my will on the flow of the seasons, of time.  My agenda is like a panicking turd in a rushing river of gold.  Die.

Michael G. said something like: It’s not about always keeping it together — clean house, practice time, and so on.  The important thing is the ability to come back.  That’s the strength.

That bit has been echoing in mind ever since he shared it with me, one day on the path, during a brief chat about these sorts of things: struggling to keep it together.  Struggling to make it to bed on time.  Struggling to wake up early and do ALL of my little things.

Meanwhile, summertime life at SMC rages on.  Hundreds of happy-faced volunteers and participants, having important bliss-life-magic experiences.  Or else, partying.  Meanwhile, disgruntled SMC artist who can’t find the time, can’t find the time, can’t find the time — struggling to make it to 30 hours each week — where does it go? — how? — How to live a good spacious, joyous life?  How?

Anyway, that’s been the chatter recently.  Last night I went to a BBQ.  Good.  Been giving up.  Good.

Mantra: Sheesh.

Mantra: Whatever.

Sometimes the best I can do.  Better than walking around fuming.  So it goes, and goes, and goes.

Summertime squeeze.

Bug.  It doesn’t matter.

Shall I end on a high, positive note?  Like: This is a fortunate situation.  I feel that I’m burning through lots of obscuration and becoming more real, more relaxed, more authentic.

It’s true!

Even though it sounds like Radiohead’s modern day human robot lament, it’s still true.  And the trick IS to surrender to the flow.

Listening to Phish play, in the forest, in my headphones, grooving — it’s like the most helpful yoga I could do.

— August 5, 2015

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PortraitTravis Newbill is a writer, musician, and aspirant on the path of meditation.  He currently resides at Shambhala Mountain Center, where he serves in the roles of Marketing Associate and Shambhala Guide — a preliminary teaching position.  Follow Travis on twitter: @travisnewbill

Flora of SMC Goes Word Wide Web

 

Living here at Shambhala Mountain Center, I see thousands of new faces each year — people who are coming to live here, or are else visiting for the day or staying for a retreat. Although it may be impossible to form substantial relationships with all of these people, a good place to start is to exchange names.

“Hello, I’m Travis.”

In my experience, learning someone’s name is an acknowledgement of shared connection that rapidly opens up the possibility of greater familiarization and friendship.

And so it is with the flora of the land, which is why we’re so thrilled with the recent online publishing of an ongoing research project that has been occurring here since 2014 in which Renee Galeano-Popp — a close neighbor of SMC — has been identifying and photographing the myriad plant specimens that live here on the land.

Click here to check out SMC’s page on the Intermountain Region Herbarium Network website.

 

I learned that this is a bluebell (Campanula rotundifolia) by looking it up in the online guide.

So far, Galeano-Popp has documented 305 species from 62 different plant families. For people who have spent some time here, some entries may be more familiar than others. In the online handbook you’ll find summertime floral favorites like the Rocky Mountain iris and spreadfruit goldenbanner, big friends like the douglas fir, as well as some more obscure (and oddly named) specimens like the starry false lily of the valley, the beautiful fleabane, and… scrambled eggs!

Of course, the binomial name is listed alongside the common name (when available) for each entry, as well as alternate names, photos, and a wealth of additional information.

We hope that SMC regulars as well as those who plan to visit the land someday will find this guide to be useful, and that it may allow you to make lots of friends while you’re here — whether you encounter other humans or not.

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PortraitTravis Newbill is a writer, musician, and aspirant on the path of meditation.  He currently resides at Shambhala Mountain Center, where he serves in the roles of Marketing Associate and Shambhala Guide — a preliminary teaching position.  Follow Travis on twitter: @travisnewbill

Floral Notes and Bardo: How?


Floral Notes and Bardo: The Creative Chronicles of a Shambhala Mountain Resident
 is a regular feature on the SMC blog in which a member of our staff/community shares his experience of living as part of Shambhala Mountain Center.

How?

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Writing in the office now, after asking permission from my fellows to turn off the flickering overhead fluorescent lights.  Now, going to put on headphones to at least discourage folks from interrupting me.  If the people on the other side of the room begin talking loudly, or at all, I’ll turn on the brown noise.

Ideally, I’d write at home.

Activating brown noise now.

Oh, rhythm of computerized brown noise.  Soothing, on some level.  To the extent that it drowns out the chatter in English language that attacks me.  On another level, it sucks.

Anyway… Ideally I’d write at home, but I’m finding it difficult to do it all — morning offerings, cleaning body, tea, journaling, pillow time with Heather, full practice session, dharma study, breakfast — and also make it down to work at a decent hour.  Coming in at 10:30 already feels quite luxurious.  Adding the half hour, or even 15 minutes of writing… how?

How?

Man… I don’t want to cut any of it out.  It’s all important.  I want to work less hours in the office and still be paid the same.

On my way into the office today, a friend, a guy who arrived recently, who is younger — asked if I could meet with him some time — a student-teacher meditation/dharma meeting.  Of course I have to accommodate that.  And, I also have to wash dishes for an hour and a half this week, like every week.  And, what else?

Same old story — life is full.  So full.

Meanwhile trying to really turn myself towards poetics, approaching Naropa grad program — beginning in just a little over a year.

I guess writing in this office isn’t so bad.  But, it’s not ideal.  No, no, no.  I want to do my art in my own space, just after practicing.

Cursing to myself beneath my breath these days.  Embarrassing.  Lousy states of mind.

How though?  How to arrange life so that it’s not too much, and so that I’m doing the things I feel inspired to do?

I really just feel inspired to live a good life.  How?

Shambhala Mountain Center: is providing an intense training ground.  An opportunity for me to dig into this a bit.  To experiment.  To learn a bit about: how.

— July 20, 2015

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PortraitTravis Newbill is a writer, musician, and aspirant on the path of meditation.  He currently resides at Shambhala Mountain Center, where he serves in the roles of Marketing Associate and Shambhala Guide — a preliminary teaching position.  Follow Travis on twitter: @travisnewbill

Floral Notes and Bardo: Everything is High


Floral Notes and Bardo: The Creative Chronicles of a Shambhala Mountain Resident
 is a regular feature on the SMC blog in which a member of our staff/community shares his experience of living as part of Shambhala Mountain Center.

The hum, cranking mechanics of this lumpy old computer is so loud, it’s difficult to hear the voice.  It’s a wounded beast in the choir.  Holy jalopy.

Anyway…

All of these dreams…

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Walking in the woods one day during retreat, singing, it occurred to me — All of These Dreams — that lovely little song may be heard as an ode to the terma phenomena.

Saga Dawa — long ago now.  At dawn I walked through the woods, across the land to the Stupa — made offerings, prayers, prostrations.  Hung a large Gesar flag up in the tress on the hill to the east.  Back to the nest, hung more flags all around the yard with Heather.  She made a few, which are wonderful.  A pink breezy pony flag hanging beside my blue windhorse flag.  Our distinct iconographies, minds, complimenting one another.  The union… 1+1=3.

Golden Key — blissful days with Cynthia Kneen.  Received profound poetry, liquid realization.  Merged with phenomena in deeper ways.  Having acquired new, reliable tools for connecting in ways that I always have (sometimes).

Warrior Assembly — Dipping deeper and deeper into the mystical aspects of Shambhala.  Poisoned by splendor.  Delicious.

Meanwhile, a heartbreakingly wonderful friendship, partnership, companionship — more and more real — Heather and I.  Honest.  Blood and guts, bones, emotion.  Heart, inexplicable circumstance, practicality.  A good deal.

Immediately following two weeks of intensive program, retreat, assembly — a full day of assisting Sensei, a day of email-a-thon catch up in the office, and then another day — 11 hours — assisting Sensei again.  Assisting Sensei in taking down the Warrior Assembly arrangements and creating the Ikebana environment for Scorpion Seal Garchen.

During Warrior Assembly, my job was to help with flowers the whole way through.  Mmm!  A lot of work.  Art work.  At one point I brought this question to the assembly: “Is the contribution of the artist valued in this mandala?  If so, why does there seem to be so much more emphasis and validation for the military?”

I was in the trenches with Sensei.  11pm, 10 hours into the work, sawing branches. Joshua was there too, helping out.  I was terribly cranky, but keeping quiet.  Sensei asked me to report on my current experience.  I told her.

She said: “And if that crankiness could speak, what would it say?”

Me: “I want to go home. I want a break!”

She was nearly 20 hours into her work for that day.  She probably worked nearly as many hours the day before — creating art.  Bringing the environment to life for the assembly, for the practitioner, for the guru to share wakeful mind.

I looked her in the eyes — her eyes are always devastatingly kind, accommodating, friendly — I said:

“I want to be able to offer like you do.  I don’t know how you do it.  I want to be able to offer joyfully, tirelessly, like that.”

She assured me that I shouldn’t be hard on myself, and that I am on a path.  She encouraged me to go home so that I don’t burn out or form a negative association with Ikebana.

I went home laughing about how I simply cannot keep up with that woman twice my age.  Unbelievable.  Promising.

Saturday, the next day — day of rest.  Wonderful.  Cartoons and cereal with Heather, a couple hours of practice, picnic lunch, a hike — then, sweating, back at the house, laying in the grass, feeling cool breeze, sky-gazing, opened a cold bottle of beer, in the shade, delicious, melted into the land, the sky, the air, the tall, fragrant, grass, the south facing slope across the valley which I had just hiked, wrote some poetry, laid, bliss.

Sunday, a full day of connecting with Heather — our seasonal relationship celebration/strengthening, check-in.  Yummy watermelon popsicles on the porch of the gift store (The HUM Depot), friendship-bracelet-weaving, lovely stroll, enchanted aspen grove ceremony, and in the evening, a community solstice celebration event — we all contributed art, words, aspirations to a large prayer flag that will be hung, on an auspicious day, on the hill near the Stupa.

Now, the end of a week of busy-ness.  Much driving — dropping off Heather, who is now in California, arranging for the car-hit-tree damage to be repaired — a million things at work, and arranging for Ethan Nichtern to hold an audience with the SMC Staff.

Meanwhile, we are in a sea of high practitioners, Rinpoche is on the land, and everything is high.

Now I must go to eat!

— June 26, 2015

~~~

PortraitTravis Newbill is a writer, musician, and aspirant on the path of meditation.  He currently resides at Shambhala Mountain Center, where he serves in the roles of Marketing Associate and Shambhala Guide — a preliminary teaching position.  Follow Travis on twitter: @travisnewbill

Floral Notes and Bardo: New Morning

Floral Notes and Bardo: The Creative Chronicles of a Shambhala Mountain Resident is a regular feature on the SMC blog in which a member of our staff/community shares his experience of existing as part of Shambhala Mountain Center.

Swam through, grew gills, sang songs into darkness
witnessed flowers of all sorts
all before breakfast, all wrapped up in dawn

Last night I cherished the sight
of her sleeping peacefully on her back,
purple pony under her arm,
hands folded.

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Out my window now — vast.  Sky is blue, finally — two weeks of heavy mist, rain, snow — like an incubator.  Me in the bardo — left home, time in Boulder running the conference, enjoying time at Marpa House.  Saw Lady Konchuk — got dizzy, nauseous, had to get up from sadhana practice to shit.  Put-put with the crew — Beyond Mindfulness.  Good.  10 hour days of work, hysterical team chemistry.  We reached 28,000 people from 135 countries.  Brought in a bunch of money for SMC.  Good.

Got home, got sick.  Crashed the new car into a tree.

Moved all belongings into palatial upstairs Manjushri — new nest.  Nubble Nest 3.0. Oh — good!  So good.  Fresh.  This morning, feeling my grasping at it.  Possessive.  It’s fleeting.

House and a car.

This is new phase of human-life-education.  Householder.  Living in society, in a house.  Relating to community from here, my seat.  Jeremy lives downstairs — good.  My new homie — dharma, poetry, life.

I had a heartful farewell with Avalokiteshvara — yurt.  Juniper smoke, song, prayer, thanks.

Here I am now.  How… SMC magic unfolding.  Learning how to live life.  I practiced at my home shrine this morning.  Now, writing from my desk, just beside the shrine, sitting on zafu still, desk is low, sipping tea from my new tea pot — beautiful, high quality, fragile — like all of this.

Next week, back into retreat — three weeks.  Now, settling into the new situation, the new phase.  Considering folks in Nepal, considering mother in Florida, the flooded folks in Texas.  These are the pebbles in my shoe.  Remember.  No God Realm vacation.

Vidyadhara said something like: “King without a broken heart is a paper tiger.”

— May 26, 2015

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PortraitTravis Newbill is a writer, musician, and aspirant on the path of meditation.  He currently resides at Shambhala Mountain Center, where he serves in the roles of Marketing Associate and Shambhala Guide — a preliminary teaching position.  Follow Travis on twitter: @travisnewbill

Floral Notes and Bardo: Into Earth, Into Possibility, Flower


Floral Notes and Bardo: The Creative Chronicles of a Shambhala Mountain Resident
 is a regular feature on the SMC blog in which a member of our staff/community shares his experience of existing as part of Shambhala Mountain Center.

Image of mystery solidified into realness
Heavy “other” became oppressive
Revolution of skepticism, purification, cynicism
Softening, imagination liberated from captivity
Realness dissolves into possibility

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A healing week, a liberating week — with teacher Marcy Fink, and pepperred by amazing wisdom of wizard Joshua.  Oh, and high lama from Tibet.

Four Dignities, and teachings, exploration of magic, possibilities.  After a retreat a couple of months ago in which I became devastatingly frustrated with the teacher and lost connection, apparently, to the lineage, this — Marcy, Joshua, and the dignities — was restorative.

After the last retreat with the teacher who I found to be inadequate, having gone on solitary retreat, only for the teachings to blossom by surprise — as if someone had slipped acid into my coffee — now, okay, good.

Prancing in the field together, offering fragrant smoke into the sky, discussing with heart, bones, imagination, these teachings, our lives, this earth, the limitless expanse, poetry.  Feasting together, sipping sake, offering dance, poem, song, for each other, for us, delight.  Laying, one afternoon, outside the Stupa, feeling deeply into earth, gazing far into, beyond, sky.  Bliss.  Vultures circling above — death.

The follwing day — Joshua — oh — wild, amazing, heartbreaking, hysterical, ecstatic, living teaching.  In the flesh and spirit.  Laughing into the sky, basking in laughter echoed from Stupa, dancing, skipping, soaring together.  Realizing what all of these teachings are really about — even in glimpses.  Realizing my barriers — okay.  Inside Stupa, all of us with Tibetan instruments, weapons, a sculpture of ego — “mix between 8 1/2 month year old baby and a frog” — in the center. cacophony of sound — like bardo, chaos, world.  Dancers, in turn, embodying the dignities, ritualistically slayed ego-delusion.

A high lama from Tibet visited us on the last day.  I sat right in front, facing him.  In the middle of his talk — on nature of mind, Kalachakra, meditation, Trungpa Rinpoche — he pointed at me and said (through his translator): “This student is meditating well.  I can tell by looking into his eyes.”  Everyone laughed. After the talk I immediately jumped up when we were invited to ask questions.  I asked about vegetarianism — because he is an advocate — and he spoke to the full room about the virtues of vegetarianism:  Eating meat, he said, creates obstacles to awakening bodhichitta, and, among many other reasons for being vegetarian, it is good to not kill other beings unnecessarily, obviously.  It was nice to hear all of this and know that my fellow sangha members were hearing all of this.  The dubious practice of eating meat, to me, is an elephant in the room of Shambhala.

After I took my seat again, he looked at me for a moment and said: “Meditate well.”

Okay.

The retreat was intense, kept me up past my bedtime every night, and it was really staring to catch up with me by the end of the week.  Tired.

Friday morning I went up to do chores at the Stupa.  While I was up there, Joshua wrote me (I typed) a recommendation for an upcoming retreat program.

Do you recommend this student for this retreat?

“Yes. Extraordinary perception of reality.”

Anything else you would like to say about this student?

“Yes. Put him into servitude to save the world.”

That was it.  Good enough!

Satruday a blissfull day of slowness with Hetaher — pillowtalk all morning, yummy lunch, cartoons and games in the afternoon.  Finally listened to the new Sufjan Stevens album while she attended the first session of the second phase of our ongoing peaceful communication training with Greg Heffron.  I was sorry to miss it, but it just wasn’t lining up.

I’m enjoying, recently, moving the my life more in accordance with the flow of things, less grip on my agenda — watching it rain for a few minutes instead of hurrying to next destination, entering into conversation, volunteering time here and there.  Slow down.  Yes.

After Heather walked down the hill to class, I walked a couple of doors down, rang the bell, and asked Michael (Gayner) for some water.  I was all out and trying to nurse myself back to health.  Without hesitation, he began feeding me all good healthy things — fruits, herbs, tinctures, concoctions.  I felt better immediately, sipping roibos while the ginger, honey, pepper, lemon brew was heating up on the stove.  He hooked me up real nice and was so joyful in doing so.

So good.

Like President Reoch handing me a bunch of money to pass along to my Mom in need: real bodhisattva stuff.  Natural.  Genuine.  Feels good.

And now, entering two weeks of mad-creative-work putting on our second big online event: Beyond Mindfulness. the team is in motion.  It’s happening.  Giddy up!

—  May 4, 2015

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PortraitTravis Newbill is a writer, musician, and aspirant on the path of meditation.  He currently resides at Shambhala Mountain Center, where he serves in the roles of Marketing Associate and Shambhala Guide — a preliminary teaching position.  Follow Travis on twitter: @travisnewbill