Something started to shift as Khema prostrated her way along the path toward the Beyual of Sikkim. She tried to keep her mind trained on the sacred syllable she had been taught to chant with each step, and when her mind wandered she tried to ancor it by focusing on the sensations from her body: her hands coming together, her thumbs touching her forehead and her chest and then her entire body facedown on the ground in reverence. A fluidity arose between her and the elements of the environment, and it was becoming harder and harder to ignore. She found herself wondering what the meaning behind this strange experience was.
She had been carrying on in that manner, performing prostrations while walking along her path, for many hours. The sun had made its way up and across the visible sky, and now was tucking in behind the Western mountain ridges. There was an obvious change in the way she was seeing the landscape now. Khema had exited the thick vegetation into open clear meadows, and was ascending a foothill in a North-Western direction, while a valley to the North-East was deepening. There was more to this change of scenery though, a change in her perception was taking place (Baker), it was what Khema was reluctant to give her attention to. She reached a point where it was like her teacher was there with her telling her to stop and pay attention to her experience. So she stopped and sat. There was something in the landscape that held a teaching. Khema traced her gaze across the ground around her, and over to the sunset, over to the cliffs and mountains ahead, and back to the dirt in front of her. What knowledge did the landscape hold?
She recalled her teacher discussing the footprint of Padmasambhava that was contained in the stupa. It was connected with legend of Padmasambhava’s expedition through the forrests in that region. He had fought an evil mountain spirit over some of the sutras he was carrying, it had turned into a tug of war when Padmasambhava stamped his foot down on the rock (his stomp was so strong the rock was like clay beneath it and his foot was imprinted there), he gave the final pull which saved the sutra. It was Padmasambhava’s fearless dedication to the teachings of the Buddha that gave him the power to overcome the evil spirit, and he wound up converting that spirit to Buddhism as well, making it the spirit guardian of the sutra which was then hidden in a cave somewhere in the Beyul.
The landscape holds knowledge of the Buddhist teachings and the memory of Padmasambhava’s quests. As time goes on and the landscape changes, more is revealed of his activities and of the teachings (Oestergaard). In this way it is critical for inititaited and practiced, spiritually heightened people like Khema to pilgimage to places like this Beyul to assist with the evolution of the religion. Legends and tales of Padmasambhava are ever changing, and when someone discovers texts, or prints in stone like the footprint, then Lamas are needed to affirm the significance and to interpret meaning in the found objects.
Khema thought that perhaps she would see her teacher again, the Lama who had recognized in her the capacity for spiritual advancement and who had initiated her as a ritualist all those years ago. She hoped her pilgrimage would be of service for him to expound on what was already known of Padmasambhava. It could only be imagined that the whole Tibetan population could gain benefit from understanding more about Padmasambhava. A drive to be of service in that way was what helped Khema to start to understand the change in her perception. It was not a personal pilgrimage for her. What she had sacrificed personally to be a nun, to master ritual, to learn medicine and now to go on this ultimate pilgrimage and seek out the Beyul of Sikkim was for the benefit of all beings. Her sense of separation and selfishness was fading. A sense of wholeness in unity with all beings and even the elements and the environment was takings its place.
The rays of the sun were gone from sight, the sky had darkened and the air became sharply chilled. Khema took out her extra wool sweater, shawl and socks, she decided that she would find a good place to settle down for the night. In the forrested area around the stupa she was sheilded from the wind. Now she was exposed in the open air.
Suddenly she heard a loud crack from far up above her, then a scratching sound, followed by something audibly tumbling down hill. It was dark and Khema could hardly see a thing, only hear as the moving object fast approached. Only a moment ago she had felt pure joy in her understanding of her changing perception. Now she was snapped out of that joyful state as terror and vulnerability rapidly took its place. She didn’t know whether to run, duck, or stay still. She scrambled without direction or thought as she felt dust and rubble rush around ankles, and the she was swept off of her feet as a heavy load of rocky debris pulled her downhill. She was dragged, tossed, tumbled and before she knew it a brambley bush brought her to a hault. The landslide continued past all around her and more rocks came down squishing her in more tightly. Then as fast as it came, all was silent and still.
A shot of extreme pain shook Khema to consciousness. The Eastern sky was lightening. Khema was shivering from the cold, she had difficulty breathing from the outside pressure of debris pressing her again the bush. She was thirsty and hungry from the day before when she hadn’t stopped once to eat or drink. There was also crusted blood covering her hair and her lower right leg, her other leg was trapped between to rocks. Her hands were free so she started pushing aside what was trapping her. The task was exhausting, so for strength she hummed a hymn that the nuns used to sing to celebrate Losar. At the very least she was comforted by it.
After a while the sky brightened and she could see better. It was more than just a bush she was trapped next to, there was a tangle of three plants growing together, all of which were familiar to Khema. Despite her distress, pain and the immensity of her situation she thought “how auspicious for these three to be growing together in this exact spot where I am stuck! I’ll burn incense for the Dakini of the region once I have freed myself!” The three were powerful, sacred herbs which in combination could be applied to open wounds for rapid healing. She drew a little more energy from seeing this and was able to push the last of the rocks aside and free herself. She tried to stand and was quite wobbly: her left foot was swollen with a lot of pain, while her right leg was gashed open from the outer thigh right down past the knee, she felt her head and there were several small knicks around the sides of her head. She picked the proper portions of each plant, and since she didn’t have a mortar and pestle to crush leaves together into a paste she’d have to chew them. She ripped her shawl in two and spit the concoction onto each piece wrapping one around her leg and the other around her head. She headed toward grassy clearing and laid down to rest, which was the best thing to do to assist the healing process.
She lit several sticks of incense and chanted a prayer to the Dakini of the land and plants. Then laid down and closed her eyes. While she rested she contemplated what realizations she had reached just before the assault from the landslide, and considered that there was something she was missing. She started to feel a warmth wrap around her like a thick, soft blanket and opened her eyes to see if something had suddenly changed. There were six female forms but they were more like bodies of light, peering all around her. Khema recognized them as six of the seven powerful sister Dakini: “Sha Myed gangs dkar (fleshless white snow mountain), Lha ri gya’ma skyol (the slate bearer of Lah’ri), Bda’la btsan mo (queen of the herders), Byang gi gser tang yi ge’khor’dul ma (tamer of the wheel of letters, the golden ton eof the north), Kha rag khyung btsun (revered garuda of Kha’rag), and Lho’i ting ting (chime of the south)” (Dalton, p.765).
Khema knew that these sister spirits were not wrathful because they adorned beautiful flower garlands and emanated pleasant lights. Khema remained calm and silent as the Dakini whispered, affirming to her that she had come so far on her pilgrimage. “The Beyul” they said, “have four levels to them: chi (outer), nang (inner), sang ( secret), and yang sang (ultimately secret)” (Baker, p.18). She had made it to the edge of the inner level, and was on the verge of breaking through to the secrets levels, but there were teachings she was forgetting. If she persisted in neglecting these vital teachings disaster would definitely follow her.
Khema had gained insight into anatta (non-self), now she mustn’t forget to contemplate dukkha (suffering), these are two of the three marks of existence and they will bring her to understand more deeply anicca (impermanence). Ultimately she would need to meditate on sunyata (emptiness) if she was to break through to the Beyul yang sang (ultimate secret level) where she could achieve complete understanding of the teachings. Each Dakini stooped down and kissed Khemas head, then touched her feet and with that Khema closed her eyes again.
A couple of hours passed when she opened her eyes. There was still considerable pain in her swollen foot, but her head felt much better and when she stood she was able to walk straight. She left the bandages in place just to be safe, but decided it was time to carry on. Full prostrations did not seem possible in her physical state so instead she joined her palms over head, brought them to her lips and touched them to her chest with the same intentions, thanking the Dakini for the message and she recommenced her journey.
It was not easy, her foot was numb some times, throbbed at other times and would send shocks of pain like lightning bolts all through her body if she stumbled, which happened often. Instead of cursing she used it as an opportunity to contemplate dukkha (suffering). She recalled the story of the Buddha’s realization upon seeing the four sights: the old man, the sick man, the dead man and the sage. And how the Buddha was compelled to seek a method for the end of suffering. This eventually led to the formulation of the four noble truths: there is suffering in life, there is a reason for all suffering, there is a way to end all suffering, that way is the dharma of the eightfold path. As Khema walked and thought, these teachings embedded themselves in her experience.
She realized how her foot would catch her attention sometimes and other times she was free from the intensity. She thought how this type of thing happened in so many instances, not only physically, but mentally. Something comes to be and fades away. In coming to be it is weak, and then strong and then weak again and then it is gone, and another thing takes its place. She witnessed this in the landscape around her, rocks are smoothed by the elements and eventually become dust, dust collects and is stamped down eventually turning into earth, the earth burries the elements and rocks or metals are formed. The teachings of impermanence were settling into her experience as well. On she walked, sometimes singing hymns or chanting sacred syllables, sometimes silent, sometimes contemplating and sometimes meditating, sometimes with a clear and open mind.
She arrived at the spot where the cliffs divided and water sprung forth streaming down in a narrow falls. This is where she had last spoken with her teacher in her vision so many weeks ago. A tiny rainbow was visible in the spray of the fountainhead. Khema sat and admired the rainbow for a few moments when that familiar warmth, like a thick, soft blanket enveloped her. She looked up to see the leader of the seven powerful Dakini sister, Rkang la de mo (obliged to Kong po) (Dalton, p. 765) hovering above. Khema was overcome with a sense of calm bliss, and she smiled and drew in the sweet scent which emanated from the Dakini. Rkang la de mo whispered “you have almost made it all the way into the yangsang. Emptiness is all you must realize, here the understanding of emptiness is the ground of pristine wisdom” (Bentor, p.90). Khema nodded her head, smiling in appreciation for such direct guidance. There was nothing Khema felt she needed to ask Rkang la de mo, the meaning of the message was clear. Rkang la de mo encompassed Khema in an embrace and then faded. Khema strung up the prayer flags given to her from the monks she had spent time with at the time of Losar. She burned the rest of the incense offering to the seven Dakini sisters who had guided her into the Beyul. She sat down and observed the rainbow glow and fade as clouds floated by the sun, the colours danced in and out of visibility. It represented to her the interconnectedness of all phenomena, and therefore as the ultimate truth, the emptiness of inherent existence.
