Three Moments

In the Fall of 1985, a new maitri space awareness practice facility was near-completion at the Naropa Institute [now Naropa University]. On November 26, 1985, Chogyam Trungpa Rinpoche toured the facility with Connor Loomis and myself. The following recollection of this event is put together from detailed notes taken at the time and impressions retrieved from the neuro-karmic substratum of my personal memory.

During most of 1985, Connor Hall and I had been working with Jim Little to construct a maitri space awareness facility in the basement of the Lincoln Street building of the Naropa Institute. We had carefully labored over the design: the wall paint and carpeting colors, the luminous plexiglass lighting fixtures, and the room configurations unique to each of the five Buddha families. Construction was near completion and we had requested that Chogyam Trungpa Rinpoche, the founder of the practice, visit the new environment to give us feedback on the design and the practice postures. He consented and the walk-through tour was to be Tuesday morning, November 26, 1985. We knew that Rinpoche’s health was unstable and we were uncertain up to the last moment that he would actually be able. Little did we know that he would face his death 16 months later.

He arrived with one kusung attendant and a driver. He walked with difficulty but without any strain, leaning heavily on the arm of his kusung. He spoke minimally, smiling gently, and was dressed impeccably in a dark suit. We slowly made our way to the basement of the building. We moved through the small meditation room off of which were the rooms. He paused, gazing at the shrine. Opening the door, we looked down the small L-shaped hall and the thresholds of the rooms glowed beautifully before us … blue, green, red, yellow, and white.

Rinpoche indicated that he wanted to see the blue Vajra room first. Entering that room, Connor and I explained that, “We have basic questions concerning construction and creating the atmosphere you want. What things might need changing … lighting, color?”

His first response was to point out the need for “ventilation … a fan … up above.” We had been struggling with this problem for months since the rooms were sealed for sound-proofing and below ground-level, with no natural air movement. No one could figure out how to make the air circulate without introducing the perceptual distortions of a vent’s mechanical appearance and sound. We had the fixed idea that the purity of the visuals were related to the purity of the meditative experience, yet surely one needed to breathe. I felt a resistance to Rinpoche’s suggestion, and asked if the vent shouldn’t be “out of sight.” He responded about “the sense of appreciation of fresh air,” indicating that the vent should go in the upper corner of the wall to the left as one enters. We asked what kind of vent and he said, “grated or slatting.” We said we could find small and quiet exhaust fans that could be hidden out of sight out of the practitioner, but he said they could be noisy and larger. We asked about the shade and brightness of the blue color and showed him the Vajra posture. I was in the posture and pointed out to him that the place where he had indicated the vent was in my line of vision, and was this right?

“Yes.”

I remained stubborn … shouldn’t the fan be at least where I couldn’t see it? I asked again, “So the ventilation is in the line of vision?” 

“Yes.”

We moved on.

Rinpoche then walked past the red Padma room to the yellow Ratna room. He again approved of the color and design. He indicated exactly where the vent should be, within the peripheral vision of the one in the posture. We pointed out that the lighting element showed clearly the bars of the fixture. He suggested “less regulated lighting … glow principle.” He said it was okay to extend the fixture’s plexiglass out with a lip. Rinpoche wished to return to the Vajra room. His kusung gently said that he had already been there and wondered if he wished to see the Padma room and he agreed. 

The review process was repeated in the red Padma room. His comment here was, “The sense of window is important.” 

We then moved slowly to the green Karma room. The posture and design checked out fine. We asked about the color to which he replied with more vigor, “Good.”

We persisted with our previous doubts about the color, “Should it be more forest green? It’s not too yellow?”

“NO!” he said cheerfully. He again asked about the “ventilation” and clearly indicated exactly where the vent should be, mid-ceiling and left of the entrance. Connor and I were bewildered. The tension was building.

“Do you mean to put the ventilation up by the window [the apex of the ceiling], within sight, and make it very obvious?”

“Yes.”

“Actual fresh air?”

“Yes.”

At that moment we got it: the vent fan would not only provide fresh air but was the blatant reminder to the practitioner of the principle of “ventilation” within a stale and stuck state of mind known as a “realm.” We all smiled together, with great relief on Connor's and my part. It was not that he had explained the whole thing to us, rather the insight/relief (suddenly free from fixed mind) happened naturally at the apex of intensification of holding on. I recall this is how Rinpoche had described how one pops out of one of the six realms, which is a prototypical experience of space awareness practice. The challenge of the practice is to not pop blindly back into (take birth in) a new realm, but to be called out of obsessive reverie by the power of the environment to rest in open space awareness. So this happened to us in his presence.

We then asked if the opaque lighting was similar to bardo and he said, “Yes.”

“How would we introduce this to people?”

He replied, “It depends on people’s capabilities.”

“We wouldn’t introduce bardo to people off the street?”

“Yes.”

We requested permission to ask questions about practice programs. We said, “In your recent talk with Marybeth [a colleague] you said to take a mahayana healing approach. Maitri program now seems to take a Hinayana approach in introducing people to the realms and sense of contrast.” He makes a sound of agreement. “What would we emphasize in a mahayana healing approach?”

Rinpoche recommended that we “make it very simple,” that people should “focus on their own mind … concentrate on what they have done and experienced.” Rinpoche assented to Connor’s suggestion that Naropa departments were interested in incorporating the practice into their curriculums. As we stood there, face-to-face, speaking together, I noticed that Rinpoche was peering steadily at me with what some seemed like curious amusement. I suddenly noticed that the sheen of his skin was green. I realized that he had been watching me change colors as we moved from room to room and I knew that he was now seeing my green face with a green beard! I felt shy and exposed while he continued looking.

Rinpoche indicated that it was time to go the white Buddha room. He said that one’s “head should be 6”–8“ from the wall, with the eyes in soft focus … not zeroing in on the crack.” The lighting was fine. As with the other rooms he indicated precisely where the ventilation fan should be placed. We sort of squared off as I prepared to ask him the question that I had been sitting on for a long time:

“Sir, how can we present this practice to therapists who are carrying over this practice and their experience into their professional work?”

He responded, “There is a natural carryover to the relationship.”

I persisted, “Not direct application?” He paused, looking at me with a slight smile that seemed to edge on a frown. I said, “No strategy?”

“Yes, no strategy.”

We slowly made our way up to Chancellor Dilley’s office for further discussion. In response to a specific question, he said that the outer walls and waiting area for the maitri rooms should be “grayish-white, simple and austere.” Connor asked if we should put the corresponding symbol of each of the five Buddha families on the entry door of each maitri room. He said this “would be good, to remind them of what it is about.”

So this is what I recall happening. What we had come to call “the jewel box in the basement” had been fully seen by the master of the practice. Somehow, the glowing rainbow palette of those odd little rooms appeared a little brighter. Thank you, Rinpoche, for leaving us such a potent place and practice. 

To close, I offer a poem I wrote and presented at the conclusion of a maitri space awareness practice seminar for psychotherapists conducted at RMDC on July 11, 1984.

◈ Birdsong of Cheerfulness ◈

blue sky

rolling clouds

icicles on the moon

sun and water rainbow

windstorm

rainstorm

firestorm

thunderstorm

emotional storm

tawdry passion storm

grim lightening bolt agression

suffocating quicksand ignorance

black mark of poverty

devastating depression

we feel so alone

By chance, we are here now.

We have taken our hearts out of the 

freezer of fear -----

hearts melting like butter under

the sun of Maitri.

Precious Maitri sun ----- you are kind luminousity

in our dark world of self-hatred.

Precious gathering, precious community -----

nestled on the belly of Mother Earth,

intimidated by Father Space.

It feels so good to be at home here.

We are so naïve,

we are so proud,

in our Maitri rainbow playground.

We are soft butter under the hot sun.

Maitri Sun

Mother Earth

Father Space

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