LITMIR.BIZ

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      Wherever Chokgyur Lingpa traveled, he was accompanied by many learned and accomplished masters. His splendorous dignity and sphere of influence were comparable to those of the great Karmapa—so that even spiritual masters served as his attendants. One such was Karpo Sabchu, a yogi adept in Naropa’s Six Doctrines and especially accomplished in the feat of swift walking. It was said that he could cover the distance from Kham to Lhasa—ordinarily a two-month journey—in a day, bringing back fresh vegetables.

      Once, when she was still a girl, my grandmother was sitting outside the great tertön’s tent with her mother, Lady Degah.⁴⁵ In the distance, they saw a man approaching on horseback. As he rode closer, they recognized him to be a Northerner, a balding old nomad with braided hair and glaring eyes, wearing an unusually short goatskin coat. His mount was an albino with bloodshot eyes. Such horses are rare and known to have bad eyesight in the snow.

      Usually a visitor would, out of respect, dismount quite a distance from the central tent; but this man surprised my grandmother by riding straight up to Chokgyur Lingpa’s tent, dismounting and going inside without looking right or left.

      Lady Degah said, “Did you see that brazen Northerner heading straight for the tertön’s tent? He was just about to ride right into it.”

      “He was staring straight ahead without the slightest glance right or left,” commented my grandmother. “Doesn’t he know he’s supposed to see the drönyer first?” The drönyer is an attendant in charge of receiving guests.

      As Chokgyur Lingpa was always in the company of his close disciples, the two women had no cause to worry about his safety and thought nothing more of the strange visitor. They went about their business.

      Inside the tent, the great tertön was seated upon a makeshift throne of stone and wood collected from around the camp.⁴⁶ The visitor plopped himself down right in front of the tertön and just sat there without saying a word.

      The servant Karpo Sabchu felt no suspicion and served him tea, thinking to himself, “These Northerners have no sense of etiquette, as we well know. Look at this brash old geezer; he’s so pushy he didn’t even wait to be let in.”

      In addition to being a yogi, Karpo Sabchu was also quite playful with people. He sat down next to the old man and rubbed his knees affectionately while remarking on how cold they were. The stranger was carrying a plain crooked stick in his belt that Karpo Sabchu tried to grab in fun, playing the fool with the old nomad.

      At some point, the old man and Chokgyur Lingpa seemed to be making gestures and faces at each other. Suddenly the great tertön assumed an awesome air, raising his right hand high, quite majestically poised. The stranger let out a sharp howl and suddenly disappeared—vanishing completely into thin air. Karpo Sabchu looked outside, to reassure himself that he hadn’t been hallucinating, but he discovered that the horse too had vanished without a trace.

      As the day wore on, Karpo Sabchu began to feel sick to his stomach. Because Chokgyur Lingpa’s close disciples knew to bring only the gravest of matters to his attention, Karpo Sabchu kept his mouth shut and quietly went to the kitchen to prepare for the meal. But before long he began to feel a gnawing pain, something like worms writhing about, eating away at his stomach. Although by now he felt extremely sick, he still didn’t want anyone to tell Chokgyur Lingpa. As time went on, though, Karpo Sabchu became so ill he was certain he was going to die. Finally, he told someone to inform the great tertön.

      My grandmother had heard Karpo Sabchu’s cries of anguish. Soon she saw Chokgyur Lingpa and the drönyer heading for Sabchu’s tent and tagged along to see what was happening. She poked her head in the door and saw Karpo Sabchu curled up on his bed, writhing in pain. She saw Chokgyur Lingpa frown, as he said, “He’s sure to die. Who else would be foolish enough to touch—and even play around with—a demon? He even grabbed hold of the demon’s stick and so he has lost his life force⁴⁷. There’s no doubt about it: he’s not long for this world.”

      The others then beseeched the great master to do something, if anything could be done to save the life of the poor yogi. After some pleading, Chokgyur Lingpa finally growled, “Prepare a burnt offering outside; I’ll take care of the rest.”

      When Chokgyur Lingpa came out of the tent, he threw some tsampa in the fire and blew on it, and immediately Karpo Sabchu’s moans subsided. When Karpo Sabchu was well enough to get up, he slunk back to the tertön’s tent. “I suddenly felt this worsening pain. It got so bad I couldn’t stand on my feet. Then, just as suddenly, it went away. What on earth happened?”

      “The old man who came to see me today,” Chokgyur Lingpa explained, “is actually an infamous spirit with quite fierce powers. He had assumed a human form. Your days were numbered the moment you touched his walking stick. The spirit asked me, ‘Aren’t you the emissary of Padmasambhava? In all the snowy ranges of Tibet, there is nothing I need, no advice I seek. I am very powerful. Even so, I have one small problem: There are two other spirits who just won’t leave me alone. They bother me at every opportunity. If it weren’t for those two, I would be one of the greatest spirits in all Tibet. So how can I subdue them? If you will just give me some helpful instructions, I promise not to harm or bother anyone in your lineage.’

      “I replied, ‘Are you willing to constantly visualize the Lotus-Born guru above your head in the form of the glorious Subjugator of All Appearance and Existence, one inch in size?’ I told him that if he answered yes, I would give him instructions.

      “But the spirit replied, ‘No, I definitely will not!’

      “So, I said, ‘Well, then, if that is the case, this is what the glorious Subjugator of All Appearance and Existence looks like in his full splendor!’

      “But all you saw was me raising my hand. It was then that the old man gave out a yelp and disappeared without a trace. But before scaring him off, I extracted his promise never to bother my descendants, lineage holders or their followers.”

      One day, Chokgyur Lingpa was invited to the large monastery at Samye. The main courtyard was elaborately decorated with brocade and banners, and the master was requested to take his seat upon a lofty Dharma throne. People filled every inch of the courtyard, creating a multicolored array dominated by the maroon and yellow of monk’s robes, just like at the famous prayer festivals in Lhasa.

      This was no small event; it lasted for almost seven days and had great significance, both secular and religious. At some point, an elaborately dressed monk, wearing layers of brocade garments, approached the throne and engaged the master in conversation. As it happened, Chokgyur Lingpa’s personal tea server and cook was the reincarnation of the great tertön Mingyur Dorje—which was not unusual, since his attendants were often tulkus.⁴⁸

      Mingyur Dorje saw the elaborately costumed monk talking with his master and thought, “Who is that proud old guy taking up our guru’s time? He may be a dignitary—they are all so proud—but he has been here long enough and I need to serve tea.” So under the pretext of serving tea to the master, he put his arm on the old monk to push him aside. The stranger, however, didn’t yield; quite the contrary, he held his ground. A small scuffle broke out between the two.

      Finally, after a while, the man turned and walked off. As he did so, Chokgyur Lingpa gave a command for him to be escorted through the tightly packed crowd and the man departed with great dignity into the main temple.

      Not long after this incident, Mingyur Dorje felt sharp pains in his belly. They grew so acute he soon couldn’t even stand up. Chokgyur Lingpa, of course, could not be approached about anything but important matters. So Mingyur Dorje just told the drönyer, “I’m not feeling well—I need to be excused. Please ask the master if he could give me his blessing.”

      Hearing this, Chokgyur Lingpa exclaimed, “What does he expect after trying to wrestle with Gyalpo Pehar? Doesn’t he know that one shouldn’t let one’s shadow fall upon a powerful spirit? Not only did he cover Pehar with his shadow, but he tried to manhandle him as well—all for

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