The Lama-Student Relationship within Dzogchen

We have long realised that we cannot work with those who need their Lamas to sit on shoulder height thrones and to wear their robes as street-dress. We cannot work with those who need us to conform to pre-existing stereotypes of what it is to be ‘spiritual’. We are not saintly. We have no impulse to be canonised or otherwise sanitised. On the other hand we cannot work with those who cannot (or who do not wish to) experience the lineage through their interactions with us. For apprentices to make the best use of us, they need to allow themselves to experience the uncomfortable counterpoint of the ordinary and extraordinary. To ignite the texture of time spent with us, apprentices need to be able to evolve a sense of how we are all connected with the lineage.

This is not so much a comment on us, or on you, but on the nature of the student-teacher relationship as it is found within Dzogchen. It is the most difficult type of relationship we are attempting to encourage, and the one which requires the highest degree of maturity.

It is easy for some people to gaze with downcast eyes at their teacher/s—such people prefer making prostrations to relating directly. It is easy for others to be so relaxed in their teacher’s presence that all sense of difference is lost—this creates a form of casual phlegmatism and sloppiness where one may as well be hanging out with any passing acquaintance at a local hostelry. For those with a neurotic level of devotionalism it is easy to enter into a culturally Tibetan ‘outer tantra’ mind-set in which the Lama is utterly other-worldly. Such people then take every word their teacher utters as the precious nectar of ‘the holy dharma’. Others with ‘authority figure’ issues find it preferable to convert the possibility of transmission into ‘Club Vajrayana’—the ‘all pals together scenario’—in which people feel free to ‘hang out’ and argue the toss about anything in as vulgar or truculent a manner as they deem expedient. Both these approaches miss the point.

What is the point? Enthusiasm, commitment, and inspiration for the lineage—these are qualities of ‘the point’. Without genuine enthusiasm, commitment, and inspiration for the lineage, apprenticeship becomes a tedious recipe for filling space and time. One may as well join any club or society. Those who are definite in seeing themselves as long-term apprentices will have a sense of what this discussion means, in terms of their own relationship with us. Those who are new will need to evolve a sense of this for themselves. Obviously the ordained disciples are somewhat skilled in knowing the difference between being too relaxed, careless, informal, and slovenly on the one hand; and having a sense of cordiality and good humour with appropriateness on the other.

There have been times when apprentices (now dearly departed) have had problems relating to the ‘form’ of the lineage. Some expressed the need for an ethos of greater devotionalism. Some expressed a need for an ethos of psycho-egalitarian deconstructed post-modernism. We have been consistent in avoiding either. The Confederate Sanghas of Aro began as small groups of people who meet in each other’s homes. We have always had intimate gatherings in which we have interacted on the most informal possible basis. We have always operated with the minimum sense of what is necessary in terms of spiritual protocol. We have always chosen the minimum of formality, and these aspects of how we practice together will never change. Even if, for some absurdly outlandish purpose, we wanted to instigate a movement toward greater formality, it would not function. It would not function because of two important factors:

1. Us—insofar as we would not enjoy it. We would undermine it continually through how we related with you.
2. You—insofar as you have sought us out. You have remained with this practice presumably due to our characteristic informality.

As we write this, it occurs to us to tell you that we make a specific practice of thinking of each of our apprentices every day. We put time aside for this in our schedule of activities. We give special attention sometimes to those who may be having problems or going through critical life junctures, whether joyful or otherwise. This has been the practice of our own Lamas – both Kyabjé Künzang Dorje Rinpoche and Chhi’mèd Rig’dzin Rinpoche. We regard it therefore as important in our relationship with our own apprentices. If we are serious—if we comprehend the meaning of Lama’i Naljor, then maybe this is something we should all consider every day—if only for a moment. If days go by when we have not considered our vajra connection, then it is unlikely that any impetus will evolve to fire us in our life-practice and our ability to receive transmission or empowerment.