A Fistful of Sand

Teaching sometimes feels like shouting “Fire” and people aren’t concerned about the threat. They are upset about the color of the walls while the house is burning. People are more interested in the trivia of life instead of their own safety. We live in a culture of distraction and the architecture of that distractive campaign is obvious: as long as we are distracted from the importance of introspection we are enslaved by sensory stimulation. This is exactly how delusion looks from the inside: fascination with the irrelevant, avoidance of the essential.  (from a talk by Zhikmé Ngakpa Gomépa)   The Buddha used this metaphor explicitly, beings live in a burning house, charmed by playthings. The shock for a teacher is that when you see the flames, you assume people will respond proportionally. They won’t—not because they’re defective, but because they don’t smell the smoke, don’t know what fire is, mistake the warmth of the flames for comfort, or maybe they believe the house ...

When the time came to release him, he didn’t run away in fear. He looked at me, chattered a sound that was not quite human and not quite animal — a sound that meant goodbye . I visited him through the seasons, bringing nuts for him and his companions. In winter he would dart from the branches, always waiting, as if to remind me that love doesn’t vanish when form changes. After ten months he disappeared into the wide green world. That too was a farewell, quiet and complete. It has been two years now. I still visit the squirrels. I still bring offerings. I still think of Matisse every day. He was my teacher, the Buddha of Greenleaf Street. Through him I learned Dharma without sutra, compassion without doctrine, and courage without ceremony. He taught me impermanence not as sorrow, but as participation — that to love anything truly is to let it go again and again, without closing the heart. Sometimes, when the wind stirs the leaves or a squirrel pauses to meet my gaze, I feel him near....

  In Vajrayāna, the tension between form and freedom is the crucible of realization. The practitioner begins within the ritual and vow-bound world of mantra and lineage, yet the culmination of that very path is gomé — “gate-free awareness,” beyond entry or exit. The question then arises: if one identifies as gomépa — a “gate-free one” — does that negate the role of the ngakpa , the vowed tantric practitioner? At first glance, the two appear to stand in contrast. The ngakpa ( སྔགས་པ་ ) is defined by the cords of samaya — the sacred vows linking disciple, guru, deity, and lineage. The gomépa ( སྒོ་མེད་པ་ ), by contrast, seems to stand outside gates and boundaries altogether. Yet these are not opposites, but stages of maturation in the same path — form blossoming into formlessness, fidelity into freedom. The ngakpa is one who practices within structure. He or she moves through gates — initiations, empowerments, transmissions — each a threshold of understanding. Through repeti...

Rohitassa Sutta, Dzogchen, and Pure Land Echoes In the  Rohitassa Sutta  (Saṁyutta Nikāya 2.26), the Buddha makes a revolutionary statement that challenges our assumptions about the world, suffering, and liberation: " In this very fathom-long body, with its perception and mind, I declare is the world, the origin of the world, the cessation of the world, and the path leading to the cessation of the world. " This “fathom-long body” — roughly the height of a person, from fingertip to fingertip — is not just the locus of personal identity. It is, in the Buddha’s words, the world itself. This is not a metaphor. It is a radical pointing out that the entirety of our suffering and the path to its end is found within our own mind-body system — perception, feeling, intention, consciousness. So, when people say we are in the Dharma Ending Age, that the world is falling apart, we may ask: What exactly is ending? Is the Dharma itself fading? Or is it our ability to see the Dharma that...

Mushin  "no-mind" In an era of collapsing attention spans and spiritual branding, it has become common to hear people claim the title of “Buddhist” while disavowing or bypassing the core practices of the Dharma. Meditation is often seen as optional. Dharma quotes adorn social media posts alongside self-help slogans. “Mindfulness” is marketed like a weight-loss product. But can someone truly be called a Buddhist if they do not meditate? Is compassion alone enough? The Threshold: What Makes Someone a Buddhist? In traditional Buddhism, one becomes a Buddhist by taking refuge in the Three Jewels: the Buddha (teacher), the Dharma (teaching), and the Sangha (spiritual community). This act is a conscious turning of one’s life toward liberation. In this view, practice may begin small, and perfection is not the measure — sincerity is. So yes, a person who has taken refuge, who aspires to walk the Path and live ethically — even without formal meditation — can be considered a Buddhist. ...

  On the morning, June 13, 2025, my wife and I were walking through downtown of our city. I spotted a small mouse on the sidewalk. It was shaking and seemed confused. We at once recognized the fragile beauty had fallen victim of the standard practice of poisoning rodents, a practice I vehemently oppose based on its inherent cruelty. A mouse wants happiness and tries to avoid pain and death every bit as much as you do or I do. Initially I thought having the mouse in peace would be a kind choice but seeing that there was a great deal of foot traffic, and it looked like rain. My wife and I decided to let put the mouse in the wooded area away from the sidewalk. I took her into my hands and lifted her up to the wooded green space away from the concrete. The wobbly little mouse wandered off into the leaves and disappeared to die in familiar surroundings and in peace, well, as peacefully as possible when one is dying of internal hemorrhage.   Once the experience of sadness dissi...

Art by Nembutsu Art Shinjin , often translated as "true entrusting" in the Pure Land tradition, is more than private faith; it is a radical inner liberation that resists external control. In a world governed by fear, manipulation, and power hierarchies, Shinjin affirms that salvation does not come from systems, authorities, or status—it arises from turning inward and entrusting fully in Amida Buddha’s boundless compassion. This simple, direct awakening undermines the authority of regimes that thrive on obedience, guilt, and conformity. Shinjin proclaims that liberation is freely given, not earned, and cannot be taken away. For the oppressed, this is an act of spiritual defiance: to entrust oneself to a Buddha beyond the reach of kings and tyrants. In Shinjin, one lives with dignity not granted by society but revealed through awakening. It says, “I am already saved,” and in doing so, breaks the illusion that worldly power holds the keys to worth or freedom. How does shinjin in...

Art by Lim Chung  Hee In the modern world, many identify as spiritual seekers. They read sacred texts, attend teachings, and speak of awakening, love, and truth. Yet the depth of spiritual transformation does not lie in seeking alone—it lies in consistent, courageous practice. It is possible to be a devoted seeker and still harbor deep fear, resentment, pride, and attachment. It is even possible to nurture disrespect for one’s own teachers—those who represent the very wisdom one claims to revere. When this happens, there is a fundamental misunderstanding at play. One has confused spirituality with religion, and practice with identity. The Danger of Identity-Based Religion When a person identifies with a religion rather than embodying its truth, they wear their spiritual path like a badge, not a mirror. They conflate knowing doctrines with knowing reality. This creates an ego that is harder to detect— the spiritual ego . Cloaked in conviction, this ego believes it already knows...