Where The Enlightened Ones Are

“But enlightenment is real, and there are enlightened masters still on the earth. When you actually meet one, you will be shaken and moved to the depths of your heart and you will realize all the words, such as ‘illumination’ and ‘wisdom’, which you thought were only ideas, are in fact true.” - Sogyal Rinpoche

The concept of enlightenment has always fascinated me.

Is it truly achievable? Or is it more of an ideal state one should be striving for?

Is enlightenment even possible in this modern, ADD world? Or was it only possible in times past, when there was space in one’s day for contemplation?  

I was skeptical that any enlightened beings walked the earth in this day and age; that is until the day an enlightened being flicked me on the forehead and forever changed my mind...   

It’s the crack of dawn in Sichul—a remote, one-street town in the Kham region of eastern Tibet—and I am sitting in the back seat of a Land Cruiser awaiting departure. My head throbs relentlessly as I continue to struggle with the altitude sickness that has knocked me on my tuckus since we arrived three days ago.

The light is just beginning to creep into the day as our convoy rolls out of town, veers off the main road, and ventures even deeper into the wilderness of the Tibetan Plateau.   

We slowly zig-zag up and over mountain passes, ford rivers three-feet deep and bounce across green pastures about as flat as the Moon’s surface. We are tossed around like rag dolls in that backseat for hours until finally reaching our destination. 

Our convoy is ordered to stop at the bottom of a hill and we marvel at the scene before us: It’s a scene straight out of medieval times. 

Ruggedly handsome warriors on horseback line both of sides of the road, holding giant, multi-colored flags. Locals stand next to them, eager to catch a glimpse of the next “celebrity Rinpoche” to arrive. Monks of all ages, from young boys to elderly men, dressed in their conspicuous ochre-colored robes, scurry about as they prepare for the day’s big event.

The locally famous Nyng Ma Ba Zhi-Ga monastery, razed by China’s Communist Party during the “Peaceful Liberation of Tibet” in the 1950s, is finally ready to re-open its doors after years and years of renovation work. 

When it’s obvious our vehicle won’t be moving any time soon, my partner Michele and I decide to get out and stretch our legs. Near the top of the hill, we’re invited into a large white tent, exquisitely decorated with intricate mandalas. We’re offered the Tibetan staples of butter tea and tsampa—a tea with yak butter and salt added and roasted balls made from barley—  which we gratefully accept after our long journey. The low table is lined with an assortment of snacks, sweets and sodas, extravagant by Tibetan standards and proof that today is indeed a special occasion.

Outside the monastery, we mingle with the locals. They’re extremely curious of the strange-looking foreigners, and aren’t subtle or shy about showing it either. I feel like a new specimen being examined in the lab for the first time. Some of the men are even so bold as to walk right up to me to touch the fuzzy hair that grows on my face and legs. It makes me feel a little uncomfortable at first, but I soon realize that it’s genuine curiosity and get used to it.

Michele takes her camera out, snaps a shot of a local woman and her child, then shows them the immediate result. They’re amazed! This technological “wizardry” causes a real stir and Michele is soon surrounded by dozens of willing models eager to have their photo taken. 

The photoshoot is interrupted when we’re summoned for “a special blessing” by the head Rinpoche. Rinpoche literally means Precious Jewel and is the term used by Tibetans for their spiritual masters. We are led inside the monastery and join a cue. I watch as an elderly Rinpoche, sitting cross-legged on a raised platform, perform assembly-line blessings for each guest. 

When it’s my turn, I’m not sure what to do or what to expect. I approach him slowly and respectfully. This Tibetan master before me is revered by the Rinpoche we have traveled with, and I get the impression that he’s “kind of a big deal” in these circles.  

Before bowing my head, I steal a look into his eyes. This moment becomes forever etched into my mind. Never have I met a pair of eyes so clear. So translucent. So pure. 

I bow my head to receive my blessing. He smiles softly and murmurs something incomprehensible while simultaneously flicking the top of my forehead with his forefinger, the force of which is surprisingly firm and strong. 

A thought, undeniable, strikes me instantly: This man before me is an enlightened being.

How do I know? For starters, those piercingly clear eyes seem to contain the knowledge of the entire universe within them; they bathe me in boundless love and compassion, without judgment and without a hint of conceit. Yet beyond the mesmerizing look, there is an energy, an aura if you will, that seems to radiate from his entire being. It’s extremely powerful, yet benevolent; it’s like he’s somehow superhuman and I get the impression that nothing in this world could harm him.

It’s no exaggeration when I say that this encounter shakes me to the core of my being.

Before I know it, the moment is over. In a daze by what has just transpired, I shuffle out of the way so the next guest can receive their blessing.

The ceremony that follows is long, replete with elaborate rituals. My attention is solely fixated on the old man sitting up there on his large cushion. What just happened? Through it all, he observes, mutters prayers and mantras, performs ritualistic duties, occasionally sips tea and, dare I say it, even looks a little bored through it all. It appears that enlightened beings are human after all. 

That encounter convinced me beyond a shadow of a doubt that enlightened masters do in fact walk this earth—you just have to be willing to travel to the roof of the world to find one.

Chris Pady is extremely grateful to have spent several weeks in the Kham region of Tibet in the early 2000s. He remains fearful that the majestic landscapes, the amazing people, and the wisdom inherent in the Tibetan culture will slowly disappear. He currently resides in beautiful British Columbia and dreams of one day returning to the roof of the world...