the great eastern sun:
a childhood recollection
Monty McKeever
Photo: © 2011 Lee Weingrad. All rights reserved
On the day I was born Chögyam Trungpa Rinpoche came to see me. He held my little baby body and playfully exclaimed, “I didn’t expect to see YOU here!” He then softly said the word bodhichitta, the Sanskit term for “mind of awakening,” and gave me the birth name “Sharchen,” which means “Great East.”
Being less than a day old, I don’t remember this first encounter at all, but I do remember Trungpa vividly. I remember the sound of his voice as he spoke, somewhat high pitched with what I would later learn was a Tibetan accent as well as the slightest hints of British inflection, proper and precise. More so, I remember his laughter—a sound that sticks with me to this day as what I can only describe as a frequency of pure authentic joy. I remember, very clearly, him making funny faces at me, big wide-mouth smiles and bright bursting eyes. I also recall him speaking more seriously, images of his face and movements, as he sat in a chair giving talks that my young mind couldn’t comprehend to audiences that appeared to my tiny form as an endless ocean of giant humans amidst the brilliant red and gold of a packed Shambhala shrine room.
Yet, while these recollections are clear, they are the distant memories of a child who is now grown. Today they feel more like dreams than anything else, and I guess from a certain point of view, they are.
My father, Norbu, known back then as Bill, was a student of Trungpa since the early 70’s and is now an Acharya [senior teacher] in the Shambhala tradition. He recalls Trungpa like this,
Trungpa Rinpoche was an amazing teacher. What made him so amazing was how he expressed the timeless wisdom of Tibetan Buddhism through the warmth and brilliance of unconditional love for his students. Despite our various neuroses, he had this joyful, kind, unshakeable confidence in our inherent wakefulness, in the basic goodness of all human beings. The power of this love transformed our lives. It inspired confidence in us that no matter what difficulties we face, sanity, kindness, humor, and love are always available. The “Great Eastern Sun” was what he called this constant source of radiance and brilliance. Great because we are all bigger than our habitual pettiness. East in the sense that the eastern sun is always rising; there is always forward vision available to us, an ever present resource. Sun because this inherent wisdom illuminates the darkness of ignorance, warms up the cold, cowardly, lonely heart. This wasn’t theory. It was not abstract. This was what it felt like being in his presence, being a student of his.
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Another of the great memories of my childhood was my family’s favorite and most precious children’s book, Trouble for Trumpets (Random House, 1984). Illustrated by Peter Cross and written by Peter Dallas-Smith, it is a true treasure of a book. It is a tale of Trumpets, which are kind, loving, honorable creatures of the sunny Spring and Summer seasons, who were forced to do battle with the Grumpets, who, while resembling Trumpets, were mean spirited beings of ice and cold. The leader of Trumpets was a joyful, kind, and compassionate Trumpet named Rimeny de Blaze, who wore a beautiful white and gold sun uniform.
In these early years of my life, immersed in the Shambhala community and constantly taking in the imagery of Trouble for Trumpets, I could not tell the difference between “Rinpoche” and “Rimeny.” They were one and the same. Not that I wasn’t aware it was only a book, but I thought it was a book about us, the Shambhala sangha. This is Rimeny:
Illustration by Peter Cross
From an emotional/energetic point of view, Trungpa Rinpoche had an effect on his students’ lives much like Rimeny de Blaze and his Great Sun Helmet, whose brilliant rays decisively defeated the dark and aggressive “Grumpet” army which was attacking the peaceful realm of the gentle and good “Trumpets”…The “Grumpets” of our habitual poverty and cowardice, aggression and petty mindedness dissipated in the warmth and brilliance of his love for us, and the illumination of the dharma, like morning mists that dissolve in the midday sun. ― Acharya Norbu
The “Battle of the Blaze” was the final conflict between the Trumpets and the Grumpets in the book. While the Grumpets had all manner of weapons, from maces to guns to snakes and spiky bats, the Trumpets were able to win the battle with nothing more than hot water bottles, acorns, songbirds, and sunlight. It was clear this fearless Trumpets army was a representation of the Shambhalian ideal of Warriorship.
Warriorship is the image he used for a spiritual person in today’s world. Why warrior? Because it takes great bravery and courage, as well as wisdom and clarity to be kind, gentle, loving and effective in a world so preoccupied with aggression, hatred and confusion. ― Acharya Norbu
More specifically, I thought the Trumpet army was the Dorje Kasung, a group within the Shambhala mandala that, while following military forms, has the motto of “Victory Over War” and is modeled on an ancient tradition of dharma protectors.
Illustration by Peter Cross
When Chögyam Trungpa Rinpoche passed away, I remember a deep widespread sadness that was unlike anything I had ever experienced. At four years old, just about everyone I knew was part of the Shambhala sangha. So to me, it was as if the benevolent king of a large nation had died. This sadness stayed with us for a very long time. It is still with us. Nevertheless, I remember being present at his cremation ceremony in 1987 and witnessing the miraculous displays in the atmosphere and underlying sense of joy. It was a cold Vermont day, but as the ceremony began the temperature began to rise dramatically, and I recall watching all sorts of people as they tore off layers of clothing. When I recall this image in my mind, I remember it as if these garments were not clothes at all, but layers of fear and anxiety that people were pulling off, or out, of themselves. There were rainbows in the sky, oddly shaped clouds, and great birds circling overhead, and when everybody began the loud KIKI! SOSO! of the warriors cry, it was clear that all was not lost. In 1994 I had the privilege of being present at the enthronement of Sakyong Mipham Rinpoche as “the new Rimeny” and it was an event and celebration that one could never forget. A giant industrial warehouse in Halifax, Nova Scotia was converted into a shrine room and the energy of inspiration and hope was just as palpable as the sadness was when Trungpa died. Trumpet culture continues. The Great Eastern Sun truly is always rising.
In 1992, when my family moved from Halifax to New York, my mom didn’t explain the move in terms of moving from a small Canadian city to one of the world’s largest metropolitan areas. She explained that we were moving to “the border tribes” and that while we would still have the sangha there, that there would be less of us and that the vast majority of people were not going to be Buddhist. She reassured me that even though this will be a big change that there are kind people of all sorts everywhere, but that I should also prepare to encounter some darkness. I was too old to still phrase all my conversations with my mother using the terms of Trouble for Trumpets, but I remember thinking to myself, “Uh Oh…She’s saying that I’m going to go to school with Trumpets AND Grumpets.” What happened next? Well, you’ll have to read that in the sequel…
Every major world religion wants its people to go to heaven. They teach various ways of getting from here to some version of heaven. In contrast, the Shambhala Buddhism of Trungpa Rinpoche and the lineage of Sakyongs teaches how to bring the wisdom, brilliance, kindness, and goodness of heaven down to this very earth in this time. This is what Trungpa Rinpoche did in his life and what his lineage, of Sakyongs, or “earth protectors” continues to do. ― Acharya Norbu
Please make your comments on the page with the Portuguese version of this text: http://magazine.dharma.art.br/2011/04/recordacoes_de_infancia_1/#respond
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Monty McKeever is Assistant to the Editor & Publisher/Associate Web Editor at Tricycle: The Buddhist Review. He studied Transpersonal and Humanistic Psychology at Naropa University and lives in Brooklyn, New York City.
Text: © 2011 by Monty McKeever. This text is being published by Dharma/Arte by arrangement with the author and may not be archived or distributed further without the author’s express permission.
Photo: © 2011 by Lee Weingrad. All rights reserved.
Illustrations by Peter Cross, from Peter Dallas Smith, Trouble for Trumpets, Random House Books for Young Readers, used under fair use according to Section 117 of the copyright law (title 17, U.S. Code).