Wednesday Afternoon
Karmapa was scheduled to give a talk to the people of
Woodstock at Andy Lee Field, a short walking distance from the center of town
near the village cemetery, at 2 p.m. on Earth Day. While the talk had not been
publicized, I decided to get there early, a little after 1 p.m., and was glad I
did because a steady stream of people followed me through the security gate,
across the muddy ground and into a large tent that had been set up to protect
us in case of rain.
I took a spot where I had a clear sightline of the stage and
rooted myself there, wishing I had thought to bring a folding chair but
committed to stand for as long as His Holiness would speak. I stood a little
bit to the left of a woman who was sitting in one of those seats that is
attached to a walker; I assumed she had a mobility problem but she seemed
content and I took care not to block her view.
More and more people arrived and all of a sudden, I felt a
tap on my shoulder and heard someone behind me saying, “You can’t stand there.”
I turned around and said, “I beg your pardon?” Two women who
had recently arrived were standing behind me and one of them repeated, “You
can’t stand there, you’re in her way,” (nodding at the woman in the chair next
to me), “and we just had to move so she could see.”
Now, these women had arrived after I did. Neither the woman
in the chair nor I had moved an inch. If I had been thinking, I would have
asked the woman in the chair, “Am I blocking your view?” because I clearly
wasn’t. But I was so taken aback by the cheekiness of the woman who had told
me, “You can’t stand there” (because obviously I was blocking her view), that I simply bailed. “I’ll
move back here,” I said, and hastily moved to the back of the crowd. I have
never figured out how to handle rudeness; what I should have said or done
always occurs to me much later, after the fact.
Yes, I was angry; in fact, I was seething. But when I got to
the back of the crowd, I ran into Debbie, a sangha member from Florida who now
lives in Woodstock and works for my other primary dharma teacher, Bardor Tulku Rinpoche, at Kunzang Palchen Ling, his center across the Hudson River in Red
Hook. I had seen Debbie briefly at the Karma Pakshi empowerment in Kingston but
this time we had a chance to chat and get caught up on what we had been doing,
so my anger evaporated as I realized that had that rude woman not tapped me on
the shoulder and told me to move, I wouldn’t have had a chance to visit with
someone I like. And I still had a clear sightline to Karmapa, even though I was
a bit farther away from the stage. It’s funny/odd how seemingly adverse
circumstances can often take a 180-degree turn. I certainly had a better time
talking to Debbie than I would have had if I’d joined in an argument with two
cheeky women.
Karmapa’s remarks to the crowd were surprising, informative
and inspiring (see previous blog entry). I had no idea he had heard about
Woodstock as a child in Tibet! I had no idea he would compare the people of
Woodstock to the Tibetans of old! (Which makes me wonder if some of the folks
in Woodstock today have past-life connections to Tibet—but I don’t wonder that
for very long.) But I wasn’t surprised to hear him refer to climate change as
an environmental emergency, or that he urged us to continue working to preserve
our world; those are consistent, often-repeated messages of his and one big
reason why I adore him.
One of the coolest things that happened was that after he finished speaking, he took a bottle of water that was wrapped in a gold cloth and poured water onto the trees that the children of Woodstock were planning to plant later that day. The children had asked that the trees be placed on stage while he was speaking, so Karmapa generously blessed them with a large drink of water from his own hands.
One of the coolest things that happened was that after he finished speaking, he took a bottle of water that was wrapped in a gold cloth and poured water onto the trees that the children of Woodstock were planning to plant later that day. The children had asked that the trees be placed on stage while he was speaking, so Karmapa generously blessed them with a large drink of water from his own hands.
As we left the tent, the rain—which had held off just long
enough for Karmapa to give his talk—started again. I pulled up the hood of my
raincoat and headed briskly back to town for a warm snack at my favorite Woodstock
eatery, the Garden Café.
Thursday
Thursday
Finally! I got a phone call confirming that Namse Bangdzo,
the bookstore at KTD, was open, so I headed back up the mountain, back up the prayer flag-festooned dharma path, and satisfied
my shopping urge with the purchase of Chogyam Trungpa Rinpoche’s three-volume
set of The Profound Treasury of the Ocean
of Dharma and a labradorite mala. I couldn’t linger, though (which probably
saved me quite a bit of money), because my friend Nancy was arriving that day
by bus for the Friday event with Karmapa at Kunzang Palchen Ling. I had
promised to meet her shortly after noon.
After being on my own all week, it was good to have a friend
to talk to and share meals with, and a bonus was that we were able to meet
Colleen, another friend, at the Bread Alone coffee shop for a nice visit before
Colleen headed over to Kingston in preparation for the Friday teachings, which
would be the only time other than the empowerment in Kingston when I would see
Karmapa at a formal event.
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