By Venerable Robina Courtin
I live in New York City these days, on my own. I’ve spent my life living in communes — first in a family of nine, then at a Catholic boarding school, then in hippie communes, radical left communes, feminist communes, and finally Buddhist communes. I must say I do like it this way: just me.
When you’re on your own it’s tempting to not dress properly — that was especially so during the pandemic. But I always want to be a nun, so I always wear my robes (well, most of the time not my zen): it leaves a good imprint.
For the many years I was on the road with just a carry-on bag, the only robes I had were on my body. You wash them in the evening and put them back on the next day. I have a closet now, but still, one set of robes seems good enough. I have at least three pairs of shoes though, and three coats. Such luxury!
And why do I always want to be a nun? From what I understand from hearing Lama Zopa Rinpoche’s teachings, quitting samsara is an uphill battle, insurmountable even, without living in vows, especially the vow of no sex.
Many lay people these days live celibate lives: they live like nuns and monks. But if it’s not done in the context of vows, there’s no power. And then the only time the action of refraining from sexual activity leaves a karmic seed is when the mind is involved, in other words when there’s intention; and for it to be a worthwhile seed the intention needs to be driven by a pure motivation. How often in a day would that happen?
As Rinpoche says, just being good is not enough.
According to Rinpoche, the power of vows is such that twenty-fours a day we’re keeping them, not only are we dropping into our mind delicious, rich, virtuous karmic seeds, we’re also putting atomic bombs under the past negative ones.
And it seems that living in vows purifies all four ways that karma ripens: the type of rebirth, the tendencies, the experiences, and the environment. As for the tendencies: that alone is fantastic. Can you imagine waking up next life with no thought of sex, no attachment to people and things, and the rest? What a relief!
I like to get up early and then do a few water bowl offerings. I empty yesterday’s first and take the blessed offerings in bottles in a shopping bag — more manageable than a bucket — down four floors in the elevator and empty them under the fenced-in trees on the street. One neighbor thanked me for watering the trees — I didn’t tell her that that is not the name of the action I was doing.
Over the years I got into the habit of making sure to offer to the guru buddhas first thing, before offering myself a cup of tea. I’d imagine as soon as I got up that there was a knock on the door and there was the guru. Can you imagine inviting your lama in and sitting him down — and then getting yourself tea before offering to him? We forget the guru buddha is right here all the time.
I have great confidence in this practice. If you’re a student of Rinpoche’s, you can’t help but appreciate the benefits of offerings. I never forget when we got a big donation at International Office when it was at Land of Medicine Buddha in the mid-1990s, when I worked for Mandala, and Harvey Horrocks was the CEO: Rinpoche told us that “this is the result of Harvey’s mandala offerings.” Wow.
Then I do some prostrations. It was the first practice Lama Yeshe gave me: “Good physical yoga,” he said. And Rinpoche told me to do them “every morning and every night” of my life. Years ago, in the mornings I’d do five sets of thirty-five, very fast — and naked: who wants sweaty robes! Now I can barely manage twenty with this 80-year-old body — clothed, but still fast. (It’s much harder doing prostrations slowly. Going down fast creates the momentum to get up quickly.)
What else do I do every day? Besides my various commitments — I divide them into several sessions throughout the day; I’m not much of a sitter — I answer a few emails, including from prisoners (although I gave up running the prison project 15 years ago, I still have contact with some); occasionally I do Zoom sessions for centers or a bit of travel to centers here and there; and I edit Rinpoche’s teachings. Writing Rinpoche’s biography is on my to-do list.
With as good a bodhichitta motivation as I can muster, I’m trying to make bucket-loads of money for Rinpoche’s myriad projects. I manage The Bodhichitta Trust, which has invested in two start-up ventures, and which makes monthly donations to various projects. I also manage a multi-member fund, The Buddhist Group LLC, which has invested in another start-up: all twenty-eight partners, including the Trust, are devoted to the FPMT. Let’s pray that our efforts bear fruit by the time Rinpoche is back with us!
I don’t attend many teachings, unfortunately. That’s my greatest regret in this life: not studying enough. But I will never forget my two years of the Geshe Program, named by Lama, when I studied Dura, Lorig, Drubta, and Tarig with Geshe Jampa Tegchog in the early 1980s. Any Dharma I know now is informed by what I learned back then. It feels like yesterday.
Initially I had no idea what “study” meant. I’d never studied anything: I left school when I was 16 and had zero interest in whatever they taught in universities. When I met the Dharma fifteen years later, all I knew was that I wanted to be a nun and I wanted to do things, so soon after ordination I went to the center in England and worked for Wisdom Publications. I also had no interest in meditation — I wanted to understand my mind, for sure, but not while sitting down with my eyes closed.
Anyway, at the center I’d hear the Geshe Program students discussing all sorts of things at lunchtime and wonder what on earth they were talking about. The following year, when I happened to hear mention of a subject called “Dura,” something awakened in me. On the first day that I sat in Geshe-la’s room with my notebook and pencil I blissed out: finally I’d found what my mind had wanted all my life. Even hearing the lamrim from Rinpoche hadn’t done that.
How else do I spend my time? I go for a walk every day or two. I live five minutes from the Hudson River; it’s nice to see the water. And I like to read newspapers on my iPad. I subscribe to The New York Times, Washington Post, Financial Times, Wall Street Journal, The Guardian, The Economist, New Yorker, Vogue, and Vanity Fair. Samsara laid bare: grist for the mill of practice.
For food I mainly shop at Trader Joe’s, which is renowned for its very cheap, very delicious prepared meals. You add a couple of veggies and in five minutes it’s ready.
I lived in New York fifty years ago, during the dying days of my political activism. I remember thinking that if ever I settled down it’d be here. And sure enough, I’m now five minutes around the corner from where I used to live on Christopher Street in the West Village.
But, you know what? I could leave tomorrow — I really don’t care. And as Rinpoche reminds us, that’s the best way to think anyway, because it could be tomorrow that I’ll leave everything.
Much love and many blessings to everyone!
Robina
Photo by Gina de la Chesnaye