By Tulku Sherdor

An emaciated yogi spending years in remoted retreat cabins in chilly northern climes, frequently with no electrical strength or operating water... information to the US s such a lot prestigious litigation enterprise, hurtling around the skies in a leased jet to place out felony brushfires, with billions of greenbacks at stake... A reincarnate Lama swathed in maroon and gold gowns atop a throne of honor amidst millions of clergymen in an impressive temple within the distant Tibetan hinterland of Golog... A Human Rights activist suffering to unfastened indentured slaves within the sweltering jungles of western Nepal... Translator, attendant and center disciple for a dozen years to a real King of loopy Wisdom.... One individual suits all of those descriptions, and plenty of extra. examine his impressive existence s trip up to now, and his wry, sharp, and candid reflections on existence, loss of life, rebirth, and that which nor is born nor dies our real nature.

A tender-hearted compliment and elegy to the nice Tibetan Buddhist masters of our occasions. - Moke Mokotoff, Zangdokpalri Foundation

An unique and unique paintings of literature via a well known western Lama within the Tibetan Buddhist culture, hailed as "deeply relocating and ... remarkably good written." --Erik Pema Kunsang, Rangjung Yeshe

"The brilliant tales rank correct up there with these in Blazing attractiveness, the memoirs of Tulku Urgyen Rinpoche." -Lama Surya Das, Dzogchen origin

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A Path Strewn with Flowers and Bones

An emaciated yogi spending years in remoted retreat cabins in chilly northern climes, usually with out electrical energy or operating water. .. information to the United States s such a lot prestigious litigation enterprise, hurtling around the skies in a leased jet to place out criminal brushfires, with billions of greenbacks at stake. .. A reincarnate Lama swathed in maroon and gold gowns atop a throne of honor amidst hundreds of thousands of priests in an impressive temple within the distant Tibetan hinterland of Golog.

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I was home. This was who “I” really was. This, I felt, was what it was like, or could be like, to die. I awoke awash in tears. , I called Andrew’s home and woke his mother. I related every detail of this dream, and she promised to relate it to Andrew in turn, in the morning when she was to see him in the hospital. It was not to be. Early that morning, Andrew stepped out of a sixth floor window, and plummeted rather than soared. After many hours of surgery, he was officially pronounced dead. I returned home to Montreal for the funeral.

Shree spoke English like a Cambridge don, and (to my novice ears) Tibetan like a Lhasa dignitary. He told me that a very great Lama named the Karmapa had just passed away, and exhorted me to attend the funeral ceremonies in Sikkim, India. The way Shree put it, my life could have no greater purpose than being present at this sacred event. It turned out that my group leader, Ann Sturley, also was planning to go; and that clinched it. Ann and I snagged the very last seats on a drafty, domestic DC-9 flight to Biratnagar, near the Indian border, and then made a midnight run on a rickshaw to Siliguri, across the border.

I also began to practice what are known as the four extraordinary preliminary meditation practices. Depending on one’s diligence, these practices require no less than six to nine months of full time effort to complete. At school I was busy writing my senior thesis in independent studies. S. I obtained, on interlibrary loan from the University of Wisconsin, Jeffrey Hopkins’ unpublished doctoral dissertation, entitled Meditation on Emptiness. ) Away I went. The point of my thesis was that human beings can never understand themselves or their world in any fundamental way through thinking and intellectual analysis.

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A Path Strewn with Flowers and Bones by Tulku Sherdor
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