In the path of cultivation, many of us begin with sincerity. We read the teachings, we listen, we reflect, and we believe that we are walking the path correctly. Yet a profound question remains:
Why is it that among so many practitioners, so few truly attain realization?
Photo taken in 1999. Elder Dharma King Dorje Losang (191?-2004) was a disciple of H.H. Dorje Chang Buddha III Wan Ko Yeshe Norbu (Great Dharma King Buddha Yangwo Yisinubu).
In a teaching given by Elder Monk Dorje Losang at Bodhi Monastery, a direct and uncompromising answer is offered. There are only two fundamental reasons.
First, one has not followed a true Master—one who is the incarnation of a Buddha or Bodhisattva—and therefore has not received the true Buddha-dharma, but only its outer forms, theories, or popular interpretations.
Second, even if one is fortunate enough to follow a true Master and has encountered the authentic Dharma, one’s three karmas—conduct, speech, and thought—do not truly correspond with the Master’s teachings. In this case, cultivation becomes superficial. Without true alignment, there can be no liberation, no genuine blessings, and no escape from the cycle of birth and death.
This teaching is simple, yet deeply penetrating.
It reminds us that the path is not only about what we learn—but how we live.
True devotion is not merely a feeling. It is expressed through what is called the “Four States of Corresponding”: unwavering loyalty, constancy without change, placing nothing above the Master and the Three Jewels, and reaching complete, wholehearted devotion. Only when these are truly practiced can one’s three karmas fully align.
And yet, for many of us, the challenge lies not in understanding these principles—but in applying them in the smallest moments of daily life.
A story shared by lay practitioner Wang Yuxiang offers a powerful reflection.
On an ordinary day, she decided to prepare steamed dumplings as an offering to her Master, H.H. Dorje Chang Buddha III. Her heart was joyful, filled with the intention to make a sincere offering.
As she prepared the filling, she followed a habit formed over years of cooking at home—she tasted a small portion to check the seasoning, then returned it to the mixture. It was a simple, unconscious action, something she had done countless times before.
But this time, it was different.
In that very moment, something unexpected occurred. A sealed bottle of soy sauce suddenly fell and shattered, creating a loud and startling crash. Shocked, she immediately realized her mistake.
This was not food for herself or her family. This was an offering.
With deep remorse, she repented sincerely, recognizing her lack of mindfulness and reverence. Her tears flowed uncontrollably—not out of fear, but from a genuine awareness of having fallen short in her devotion.
Soon after, she discovered that her foot had been pierced by a sharp piece of glass, causing significant bleeding. Yet despite the injury, her only concern was not to delay her Master’s meal. She endured the pain, completed the offering, and only afterward returned home to tend to her wound.
And then, something extraordinary happened.
The wound—deep, bleeding, and undeniable—had completely disappeared. There was no scar, no swelling, no trace it had ever existed.
To many, such an account may seem difficult to comprehend. But beyond the event itself lies its deeper meaning.
Through this experience, she came to a clear realization: cultivation is not an abstract concept—it is present in every thought, every word, every action.
Even a small, habitual act, when lacking mindfulness and reverence, reveals a gap between one’s intention and one’s actual state of alignment.
From a Buddhist perspective, this story is not merely about a “miracle,” but about cause and condition, sincerity and response.
When one’s mind deviates, even subtly, there is consequence. When one repents with genuine sincerity, there is also transformation.
More importantly, it reminds us that following a true Master is an immense blessing—but it also carries profound responsibility.
It is not enough to say we believe. It is not enough to feel devotion in our hearts.
Our three karmas must align—completely, precisely, and without compromise.
Not only in great matters, but in the smallest details of daily life.
How we speak. How we act. What thoughts we allow to arise.
Because it is in these subtle moments that our true state is revealed.
If we treat ordinary matters casually, how can we claim sincerity in sacred ones?
If our habits remain unchanged, how can transformation occur?
The path of cultivation is, in truth, very direct.
When the Dharma is true, and when one’s devotion is unwavering, Elder Monk Dorje Losang teaches that liberation can be “as easy as turning over one’s hand.”
But if our practice remains external, if our alignment is incomplete, then no matter how long we cultivate, the result will remain distant.
This is both a warning and a profound encouragement.
It tells us that the path is not far away. It is right here, in this very moment.
In every thought we choose. In every word we speak. In every action we take.
To truly align our three karmas is not something abstract—it is something we practice now.
Quietly. Sincerely. Completely.
And perhaps, in that sincerity, the path will naturally unfold.
For full lecture Given by Elder Monk Dorje Losang at Bodhi Monastery, please click here.
There are moments in life when compassion is no longer an idea, but a living force—quiet, unwavering, and profoundly transformative.
This is the story of such a moment.
Shared by lay practitioner Qi Pengzhi(戚鹏直), it recounts an act of extraordinary care by Namo Dorje Chang Buddha III and Namo Yuhua Shouzhi Wang Buddha Mother—an act not directed toward kings or crowds, but toward a fragile colony of bees, hidden on the rooftop of an ordinary home.
It was 2011, a year marked by an unexpected turning point. The house in which they resided had been sold, and the new owner intended to demolish it. Time was short. Departure was inevitable.
And yet, above their heads, life was quietly unfolding.
A vast hive of bees had taken refuge beneath the roof—thousands of tiny lives bound together in delicate harmony. To most, this would have been an inconvenience, perhaps even a nuisance. The simplest solution, as suggested by the landlord, was extermination.
But compassion does not choose the convenient path.
“Under no circumstances should they be harmed,” came the firm and gentle instruction. “Their lives are no different from ours.”
In that moment, the fate of the hive was no longer incidental—it became a responsibility.
What followed was not a symbolic gesture, but a meticulous and determined effort. Beekeeping specialists were consulted. Plans were drawn. A new hive was carefully constructed in advance, shaped not by haste but by respect for the natural rhythms of the bees.
Time pressed on. The day of relocation arrived.
There is a quiet tension in handling something so easily broken. Bees do not understand human urgency; they respond only to the subtle language of instinct and survival. At the heart of their world lies the queen—without her, the colony dissolves into silence.
So every movement mattered.
The disciples stood watch as professionals gently removed the hive from the rooftop. No detail was overlooked. No life dismissed as insignificant. It was a scene both practical and deeply reverent—an unspoken recognition that even the smallest existence carries its own dignity.
Yet the journey did not end with removal.
True compassion does not abandon halfway.
They followed the bees—literally—escorting them to their new home. The destination was a secluded mountainside, where wildflowers stretched across the land and human disturbance faded into absence. It was a place where life could continue as it was meant to: freely, quietly, and whole.
Only after ensuring the bees were safely settled did they return.
What remains is not merely the memory of an act, but the echo of its meaning.
In an age where humanity grapples with ecological imbalance, the significance of such care becomes ever more apparent. Bees, as science now repeatedly reminds us, are vital to the continuity of life. Their silent labor sustains ecosystems, nourishes crops, and binds the intricate web of nature together.
To protect them is, in truth, to protect ourselves.
And yet, beyond science, there is a deeper understanding—one that transcends utility.
It is the recognition that life, in all its forms, is not hierarchical but shared.
That the boundary between “us” and “them” is far thinner than we imagine.
That a single act of protection, offered without condition, can restore a fragment of harmony to a fractured world.
Perhaps true compassion is not measured by grand gestures, but by the willingness to pause… to notice… and to protect even that which the world has overlooked.
On a rooftop, in a fleeting moment before demolition, a choice was made.
Not to destroy—but to preserve.
Not to disregard—but to honor.
And in that choice, something far greater than a hive was saved.
This post is translated and edited from Interview with a Buddhist Disciple (64): AM1300 Chinese Radio Station – Exclusive Interview with U.S. Layman Qi Pengzhi 《佛弟子訪談（六十四）：AM1300中文廣播電臺-專訪美國 戚朋直居士》by Linda Chang. For original records, please click here.
Click here to Wikitia page on H.H. Dorje Chang Buddha III that list major accomplishments and teachings with links.
The following account is excerpted from a post published by Holy Miracles Temple on April 15, 2022, titled “Recent Talk Records of Venerable Zhai Mang.”
Sometimes, in the course of spiritual practice, there are moments that quietly remind us how limited our ordinary understanding truly is. What we see, hear, and reason through the lens of everyday experience may only be a small fragment of a far greater reality.
Venerable Zhai Mang once shared a personal experience that deeply illustrates this truth.
In January 1996, he accompanied the Buddha and the Holy Mother to Shenzhen. At that time, Brother Li Dehe, the general manager of the Luohu Hotel, arranged a temporary Dharma altar on the 16th floor, where teachings were given and disciples gathered.
One day around noon, it was time to invite the Buddha and the Holy Mother for a meal. Yet, to everyone’s surprise, the Buddha could not be found.
Venerable Zhai Mang went up to the altar to look—no one was there. Another disciple went, and then another. Each time, the result was the same: the room was empty.
Finally, Sister Liu Ge went to check. Unlike the others, she did not leave immediately. She stood quietly by the doorway, facing a large mirror. Behind her was a sealed window, reflected clearly in the glass.
Then, something extraordinary happened.
In the mirror, she suddenly saw a foot appear near the window—seemingly out of nowhere. In the next moment, she witnessed the Buddha step into the room from midair.
Startled beyond words, she cried out.
Everyone rushed over. Inside the altar, the Buddha was already seated calmly, as if nothing unusual had occurred. Sister Liu Ge then recounted what she had just witnessed.
When sharing this story, Venerable Zhai Mang did not focus on the miraculous itself. Instead, he pointed to something far more important.
In simple terms, he reminded us: the realization and abilities of the Buddha and the Holy Mother are beyond the comprehension of ordinary minds. Trying to measure the enlightened with our limited understanding is like trying to contain the vast sky within the palm of a hand.
What, then, should we do?
Not to speculate. Not to doubt blindly. But to turn inward.
With sincerity, we reflect on ourselves. With humility, we cultivate. With a heart of repentance and reverence, we create the conditions to receive true guidance.
Moments like this are not merely stories of the extraordinary. They are gentle awakenings—reminding us that the path of spiritual practice is not built on curiosity about miracles, but on the transformation of our own hearts.
In a world that often demands proof for everything, perhaps the deeper wisdom lies in recognizing what cannot be fully explained, yet can be quietly felt.
To walk the path is to let go of arrogance, to open the heart, and to trust that there are dimensions of truth far beyond what we can see.
And perhaps, when the mind becomes still and sincere, what once seemed unimaginable may no longer feel so distant.
The Legacy of Venerable Denma Tsemang
Venerable Denma Tsemang was one of the twenty-five great Dedengbas under Guru Padmasambhava when he journeyed to Tibet over a thousand years ago to spread the Dharma. During that same period, Shakyamuni Buddha dispatched Denma Tsemang to descend into this world to assist Guru Padmasambhava in propagating the Buddha-Dharma.
According to the traditional biographies of Guru Padmasambhava’s twenty-five foremost disciples, Denma Tsemang was highly accomplished in transcription and writing. He possessed extraordinary wisdom and was especially skilled in translation. Under the guidance of the great ācārya Guru Padmasambhava, he received numerous esoteric teachings, including secret mantras and profound Dharma instructions.
He attained remarkable realization, great spiritual powers, abundant merit, and deep wisdom. It is said that he never forgot any teaching he received, retaining everything completely. Many important terma (hidden treasure texts), including the Collection of Eight Sadhana Teachings, were transcribed by him. In addition, Denma Tsemang, together with other great Bodhisattvas, participated in translating the sutras and treatises contained within the Tripitaka.
In this present lifetime, Denma Tsemang has reincarnated as H.E. Longzhi Tanpe Nyima, a devoted disciple of H.H. Dorje Chang Buddha III. He remains by His Holiness’s side throughout the year, serving as an attendant with unwavering dedication.
His strengths in this life closely mirror those of his previous incarnation. He diligently transcribes and organizes the recorded Dharma discourses of H.H. Dorje Chang Buddha III, preserving these teachings for the benefit of future generations.
During a sacred inner tantric initiation known as “Drawing Lots from a Golden Vase and Casting a Lot,” performed personally by H.H. Dorje Chang Buddha III, the lot revealed the mandala of Guhyapada Vajra—a powerful vajra being of immense spiritual strength. Following this, he demonstrated extraordinary ability by telekinetically moving a vajra pill, clearly revealing the level of realization of a true reincarnated great Dedengba.
In early Buddhism, an arhat (Sanskrit) or arahant (Pali) — “worthy one” or “perfected one” — was the highest ideal of a disciple of the Buddha. He or she was a person who had completed the path to enlightenment and achieved nirvana. In Chinese, the word for arhat is lohan or luohan.
“There is no more worldly existence for the wise one who, like the earth, resents nothing, who is firm as a high pillar and as pure as a deep pool free from mud. Calm is his thought, calm his speech, and calm his deed, who, truly knowing, is wholly freed, perfectly tranquil and wise.” [Verses 95 and 96; Acharya Buddharakkhita translation.]
In early scriptures, the Buddha is sometimes also called an arhat. Both an arhat and a Buddha were considered to be perfectly enlightened and purified of all defilements. One difference between an arhat and a Buddha was that a Buddha realized enlightenment on his own, while an arhat was guided to enlightenment by a teacher.
In the Sutta-pitaka, both the Buddha and arhats are described as being perfectly enlightened and free from fetters, and both achieve nirvana. But only the Buddha is the master of all masters, the world teacher, the one who opened the door for all others.
As time went on, some early schools of Buddhism proposed that an arhat (but not a Buddha) might retain some imperfections and impurities. Disagreement over the qualities of an arhat may have been the cause of early sectarian divisions.
The Arahant in Theravada Buddhism
Today’s Theravada Buddhism still defines the Pali word arahant as a perfectly enlightened and purified being. What, then, is the difference between an arahant and a Buddha?
Theravada teaches there is one Buddha in each age or eon, and this is the person who discovers the dharma and teaches it to the world. Other beings of that age or eon who realize enlightenment are arahants. The Buddha of the current age is, of course, Gautama Buddha, or the historical Buddha.
The Arhat in Mahayana Buddhism
Mahayana Buddhists may use the word arhat to refer to an enlightened being, or they may consider an arhat to be someone who is very far along the Path but who has not yet realized Buddhahood. Mahayana Buddhist sometimes use the word shravaka — “one who hears and proclaims” — as a synonym for arhat. Both words describe a very advanced practitioner worthy of respect.
Legends about sixteen, eighteen, or some other number of particular arhats can be found in Chinese and Tibetan Buddhism. It is said these were chosen by the Buddha from among his disciples to remain in the world and protect the dharma until the coming of Maitreya Buddha. These arhats are venerated in much the same way Christian saints are venerated.
Arhats and Bodhisattvas
Although the arhat or arahant remains the ideal of practice in Theravada, in Mahayana Buddhism the ideal of practice is the bodhisattva — the enlightened being who vows to bring all other beings to enlightenment.
Although bodhisattvas are associated with Mahayana, the term originated in early Buddhism and can be found in Theravada scripture as well. For example, we read in the Jataka Tales that before realizing Buddhahood, the one who would become the Buddha lived many lives as a bodhisattva, giving of himself for the sake of others.
The distinction between Theravada and Mahayana is not that Theravada is less concerned with the enlightenment of others. Rather, it has to do with a different understanding of the nature of enlightenment and the nature of the self; in Mahayana, individual enlightenment is a contradiction in terms.
In a recent episode of “Expounding the Absolute True Through the Heart Sutra,” a longtime disciple, Layman Qi, shared his personal experiences of serving and accompanying H.H.Dorje Chang Buddha III for more than twenty years. What he described was not merely a teacher’s routine—it was a life of tireless, wholehearted service to all living beings.
Layman Qi has followed H.H.Dorje Chang Buddha III for over two decades, often driving for Him and staying close to Him in daily life. Through these years, he witnessed something that left a deep impression on his heart:
“In all these twenty-plus years,” he said, “I have never truly seen the Buddha rest. I do not even know when He rests.”
From early dawn, instructions are already being given. Throughout the day, the Buddha meets disciples, expounds the Dharma, grants empowerments, and resolves spiritual questions. Frequently, these activities continue until one, two, or even three o’clock in the morning.
Some may assume that after leaving the temple, He returns home to rest. According to Layman Qi, this is not so. Even when returning late—sometimes at three or four in the morning—His Holiness still carefully instructs disciples to ensure that even the dogs have been fed, water prepared, and that animals, including wildlife, are properly cared for.
Layman Qi describes H.H. Dorje Chang Buddha III as the most hardworking person he has ever encountered. Not only does the Buddha care for disciples, but He also performs Dharma services, dedications of merit, and liberative practices for countless sentient beings—including beings of the Six Realms whom ordinary eyes cannot see.
Meals are simple and often delayed. Breakfast is typically just a small bowl of porridge with a bit of pickled vegetables. Many days, even by seven or eight in the evening, lunch has still not been taken.
Disciples sometimes travel thousands of miles to seek an audience. Layman Qi understands their sincerity. Yet he gently reminds fellow practitioners: if one truly seeks the Buddha, the purpose should be to learn how to cultivate, how to transcend birth and death, and how to receive authentic Dharma teachings—not to occupy time with mundane disputes or worldly concerns.
Layman Qi reflects deeply on this point. In worldly life, one may seek employment for financial gain. But a Buddhist disciple seeking the Buddha should seek liberation, wisdom, and genuine cultivation.
Worldly difficulties—business setbacks, family discord—arise from karma. As the Buddha teaches, even a cool breeze in summer or the loss of a single hair operates within cause and effect. Understanding this principle, disciples should focus on transforming their karma through practice, rather than burdening the Buddha with worldly entanglements.
When countless disciples seek meetings daily, even a few minutes of casual worldly conversation multiplied many times over would prevent the Buddha from guiding those sincerely seeking liberation. For Layman Qi, this understanding has become an essential lesson in cultivation itself.
Perhaps the most moving detail is what happens after disciples finally rest for the night.
Layman Qi explains that stacks of requests—for blessings, dedications, and liberation rites—are presented to the Buddha. While others sleep, His Holiness continues performing practices and dedicating merit for sentient beings.
“To us,” Layman Qi reflects, “rest means sleep. But for the Buddha, there seems to be no such thing as rest. Twenty-four hours a day, His life is for living beings.”
What Layman Qi shares is only a glimpse. He openly admits that what he has seen is just a small portion of the Buddha’s boundless effort and compassion. Yet even this small portion, he says, is already beyond what ordinary people could endure.
In his words, the Buddha “never considers Himself.” Every action is directed toward benefiting living beings. This, he believes, is not only an expression of supreme compassion but also a profound lesson for all practitioners.
To serve without seeking return. To give without calculating personal gain. To work tirelessly for the liberation of others.
This is the example he has witnessed for over twenty years.
This post is translated and edited from Interview with a Buddhist Disciple (62): AM1300 Chinese Radio Station – Exclusive Interview with U.S. Layman Qi Pengzhi 《佛弟子訪談（六十二）：AM1300中文廣播電臺-專訪美國 戚朋直居士》by Linda Chang. For original records, please click here.
Click here to Wikitia page on H.H. Dorje Chang Buddha III that list major accomplishments and teachings with links.
In the rich tapestry of Tibetan Buddhism, there are extraordinary practitioners whose lives themselves become teachings. Among them, Ayu Khandro (阿玉康卓) — also known by her Dharma name Dorje Peldron — stands as one of the most inspiring yoginis of the Nyingma tradition. Her life is not merely a story; it is a living example of devotion, perseverance, and profound realization.
Born in 1839 in the remote region of Kham, eastern Tibet, Ayu Khandro began her spiritual journey at a young age. She received teachings from many of the greatest masters of her time, including Jamyang Khyentse Wangpo, Jamgon Kongtrul, Chokgyur Lingpa, Nyala Pema Dundul, Adzom Drukpa, and Togden Rangrig — figures who were central to the non-sectarian Rimé movement in Tibetan Buddhism.
Unlike many who seek comfort or recognition, Ayu Khandro chose a life of renunciation and yogic discipline. She wandered widely across Tibet, lived in caves and hermitages, and devoted herself to decades of intense meditation. She spent more than fifty years in retreat, including prolonged periods of dark retreat, known in Tibetan as Yangti Nagpo — an advanced Dzogchen practice where the meditator withdraws from external light to focus inwardly on the nature of mind.
Dzogchen — The Great Perfection
Ayu Khandro’s life was profoundly rooted in Dzogchen (Great Perfection) — a teaching that points directly to the intrinsic, luminous nature of consciousness. Rather than seeking external accomplishments, she focused entirely on direct inner realization.
She was recognized as a terton — a revealer of hidden teachings — and was particularly known for transmitting sacred practices and giving initiations to practitioners, including the renowned master Chogyal Namkhai Norbu Rinpoche, who later wrote her biography based on her own oral account.
Ayu Khandro lived to the remarkable age of 115. In 1953, near the end of her life, she received visitors, gave away her precious possessions, and continued to teach and encourage those around her. After she passed away, it is reported in Tibetan Buddhist biography that her body remained in meditation posture for about two weeks before any signs of physical change occurred. By the end of this period, her body had shrunk to a fraction of its original size — an occurrence some traditions associate with deep spiritual attainment in Dzogchen practice, where the physical elements dissolve into subtler states.
This remarkable account, while extraordinary, is part of how her life has been transmitted in spiritual biographies — not as a spectacle, but as a sign of the depth and authenticity of her practice.
What makes Ayu Khandro’s life especially compelling is not just her longevity or her meditative achievements, but her steadfast devotion to the Dharma. She never sought fame or comfort. Instead, she walked the rugged paths of realization, teaching through action rather than words, presence rather than proclamation. Her retreats, pilgrimages, and meditation practices were not about escape, but about coming fully home to the true nature of mind.
Although few of us will ever undertake decades of meditation in darkness or faraway hermitages, Ayu Khandro’s life still speaks directly to modern seekers. In an era filled with distraction and ambition, her example invites us to ask:
What is true commitment?
How deeply can we trust the path we walk?
Can we place inner understanding above outer achievement?
Her life encourages us to remember that spiritual depth is not measured by loud accomplishments, but by quiet fidelity to practice.
Ayu Khandro remains a powerful reminder that liberation is not found on the surface of life, but in its quiet depths. Her unwavering dedication, her silent courage, and her embrace of the path offer inspiration — not as myth, but as a living reminder of what is humanly possible when devotion meets discipline.
Since the time of Shakyamuni Buddha, it has been a long-established tradition in Buddhism for disciples to make offerings to their masters or teachers from whom they receive the Dharma. This practice is clearly stipulated in Buddhist teachings and has been followed for over two thousand years across cultures and countries. Making offerings is regarded as both an expression of gratitude and a means of cultivating merit.
Yet, in striking contrast to this universal custom, H.H. Dorje Chang Buddha III made an extraordinary vow very early in His life: to never accept any offering from anyone.
Rather than receiving support, He has chosen to give unconditionally. Rather than being served, He serves others. H.H. Dorje Chang Buddha III has repeatedly said with humility, “I am a servant of living beings.”
This is not a symbolic statement—it is a lifelong practice.
Throughout His life in China, and from the time He first settled in the United States to the present day, countless Buddhist disciples have sincerely attempted to make offerings to Him. These were not small gestures. Some offerings reached millions, even tens of millions of U.S. dollars, given voluntarily and without condition. Yet without exception, H.H. Dorje Chang Buddha III has steadfastly refused every offering, remaining absolutely faithful to His vow.
Many disciples, deeply moved by this experience, have written open and notarized testimonials describing how their offerings were respectfully but firmly declined. These accounts stand as living evidence of a level of integrity that is rare in any age.
In early 2018, at the Holy Miracles Temple, Ms. Judy Kuan—whose Dharma name is Dunzhu—solemnly made a public vow before Shakyamuni Buddha and Skanda Bodhisattva. Standing in the Grand Hall, she revealed a truth she had kept private for many years: her personal experience witnessing H.H. Dorje Chang Buddha III’s absolute refusal to accept offerings, regardless of their magnitude.
This invites us to pause and reflect. Imagine being faced with vast wealth—gold, land, and enormous sums of money—freely offered, unconditionally given, without demand or obligation. Could any ordinary person truly reject it all? Not a portion. Not even a single cent. And do so consistently, over decades, without wavering?
Could we remain completely untainted?
For many decades, H.H. Dorje Chang Buddha III has lived exactly in this way—helping others entirely on a voluntary basis, never seeking reward, recognition, or material gain. From early morning until late into the night—often two or three o’clock in the morning—He continues to work tirelessly to resolve the suffering of living beings, to address Dharma matters, and to guide others on the path of righteousness and compassion.
This is not occasional generosity. It is unceasing selflessness.
In a world where spiritual authority is too often entangled with wealth and power, the conduct of H.H. Dorje Chang Buddha III stands as a rare and powerful example. His life demonstrates that true cultivation is not spoken—it is lived. True compassion does not ask for return. And true realization naturally manifests as service to others.
Further supporting this truth, several Buddhist disciples have publicly released notarized letters, now translated into English, testifying that their offerings were refused. These documents exist not to persuade, but to allow people to see for themselves.
In the end, the question is not whether we admire such selflessness—but whether we allow it to awaken something within our own hearts.
For those who reflect deeply, the life of H.H. Dorje Chang Buddha III offers a quiet yet profound reminder: the highest virtue is to give without taking, to serve without asking, and to live entirely for the benefit of others.
Click here to Wikitia page on H.H. Dorje Chang Buddha III that list major accomplishments and teachings with links.
Click here for recognitions from Dharma Kings and Rinpoches
The highest point of the leg: The Dochu La pass at 3,100 meters
By Gongjue Tuji
With many impressions from Thimphu and a feeling of gratitude, we continued our pilgrimage. Before leaving the busy capital behind for good to drive deeper into the mountains, however, we spent another day in its surroundings. After all, Bhutan is not only defined by its holy temples and deeply rooted Buddhism. The landscape itself also holds enormous power. We were looking forward to traveling to places where the country’s history and the powerful nature form a very special unity.
Semtokha Dzong: The Palace of Secret Mantras
On the third day, our path first led us about six kilometers south of Thimphu to Semtokha Dzong. This place also bears the meaningful name “Sangak Zabdhon Phodrang,” which translates to “Palace of the Profound Meaning of Secret Mantras.”
Semtokha Dzong
Historically, this is a milestone: The Dzong was built between 1629 and 1632 by Shabdrung Ngawang Namgyal, the legendary unifier of Bhutan. He introduced something completely new here, namely the combination of a monastery and an administrative center under one roof. This innovative concept worked so well that it later became the model for all other major fortresses in the country, such as in Paro or Punakha. This historical significance mixed with a very present joy on the day of our visit. Since the entire country was honoring the fourth King’s birthday, a particularly festive mood could be felt everywhere.
But something else left a deep impression on me. In the temple rooms, the distinct scent of butter lamps hung in the air. It is a very unique smell that we would encounter again and again at other places, and which for me is now inseparably linked to the atmosphere of these holy sites.
Impressions (in order): View into the courtyard, the magnificent entrance area, water bowls as offerings, the corridor with prayer wheels, myself inside, and our group on the entrance stairs.
Takin Preserve: The Creation of Drukpa Kunley
Bhutan is deeply rooted in its spiritual traditions, where the power of the Dharma also manifests in nature. We visited the Royal Preserve to see the national animal: the Takin. It is a fascinating creature, unique to the Himalayas, with an appearance that resembles a cross between a cow and a goat.
Its existence traces directly back to the miraculous activity of Drukpa Kunley, also known as the “Divine Madman.” In the 15th century, people asked him to perform a miracle to prove his realization. He requested to be served a cow and a goat. After consuming both, he placed the goat’s head upon the cow’s skeleton. With his supernatural powers, he brought this new being to life. This event stands as a powerful testament to the Master’s unconventional teaching methods and his ability to act beyond ordinary concepts.
Impressions (in order): The spacious forest area of the preserve, a resting Takin in the shade, and an animal by the stream.
Dochu La: Commemoration at the 108 Chortens
On the fourth day, we left the capital heading towards Punakha. The road led us over the Dochu La, a pass at an altitude of about 3,100 meters. Although a few clouds obscured the view of the very big ice giants of the Himalayas, gaps opened up again and again, through which we could see the snow-covered peaks.
The 108 Druk Wangyal Chortens against the backdrop of the Himalayas
Up on the pass stand the 108 Druk Wangyal Chortens. They are an important place of remembrance. They were not built to celebrate a military victory in 2003, but to commemorate the fallen. It is characteristic of the culture here that triumph is not put in the foreground, but rather compassion and remembrance.
Chimi Lhakhang: The Legacy of Drukpa Kunley
In the Punakha district, the legacy of the “Divine Madman,” Drukpa Kunley, is ever-present. Even in the surrounding villages, we noticed the many houses painted with phallic symbols. What may initially seem unusual to foreign eyes is regarded here as a powerful symbol of protection.
View into the Punakha Valley
Our next destination was Chimi Lhakhang. The path there leads very picturesquely right through green rice fields. The temple itself stands exactly at the spot where the great master Drukpa Kunley manifested his power to subdue a demon that had taken the form of a dog. He did so with his “flaming thunderbolt of wisdom.” This also explains the paintings on the houses, as they represent this victorious thunderbolt. At the place of this subjugation, a small black stupa still stands today. Also, statues of the master can often be recognized by a dog lying at his feet. Today, the place is mainly known as the Temple of Fertility, to which couples from all over the world make pilgrimages. We used the peaceful atmosphere there to chant together under a large Bodhi tree in front of the temple.
Impressionen (der Reihe nach): Der Chimi Lhakhang Tempel mit der schwarzen Stupa, eine schlafende Tempelkatze, junge Mönche beim Üben der Dharma-Instrumente und unsere Gruppe beim gemeinsamen Chanten unter dem großen Bodhi-Baum.
Punakha Dzong: Palace of Great Bliss
Afterwards, we continued to Punakha Dzong. It is situated very picturesquely right where the Pho Chhu (Father River) and the Mo Chhu (Mother River) meet. Its full name is Pungtang Dechen Photrang Dzong, which translates to “Palace of Great Happiness.” The building is not only huge but also historically of enormous importance. It was built as early as 1637 and for a long time formed the center of the then winter capital Punakha.
Punakha Dzong
Even today, the monastic community moves here during the cold months. Moreover, it is a historic place for the monarchy, as the first King of Bhutan was crowned here in 1907. Inside rest the mortal remains of the state founder Shabdrung Ngawang Namgyal. However, this area is strictly protected. Only the King and the Je Khenpo, as well as two guardian lamas, are allowed to enter the room with the relics.
Impressions (in order): Conversations in front of white walls, roosters on the intricate roof ledge, and the entrance to the sacred temple area (Machen Lhakhang), where the relics of the state founder are kept.
Wangdue Phodrang: Rebuilding a Landmark
In the morning of the next day, we stopped at Wangdue Phodrang Dzong. This place has a moving history. It was founded in 1638 by Shabdrung Ngawang Namgyal under the auspicious name “Palace of the Four Cardinal Directions.” It sits strategically on a ridge that resembles a sleeping elephant and overlooks the confluence of two rivers.
Wangdue Phodrang Dzong
For a long time, it was considered the only Dzong that had never fallen victim to a fire in its almost 400-year history. But on June 24, 2012, fate struck: A technical defect triggered a fire in the early morning, and fueled by strong winds, the proud fortress burned out completely within a few hours.
But what we saw was not a place of mourning, but of hope. The reconstruction, which began in 2014, is an impressive testament to Bhutanese unity, but also to the deep friendship with neighboring India. Through close cooperation and generous support from India, this massive project could be realized. It wonderfully shows how modern engineering and cross-border solidarity are used not only to preserve traditional culture but to literally let it rise anew from the ashes.
Impressions (in order): Intricate carvings at the portal, colorful wall murals of guardian deities, the spacious courtyard, a monk at the staircase, and our group photo in front of the Dzong.
Drive through the Black Mountains
With this image of a new beginning in mind, we continued our journey towards the Phobjikha Valley. The drive was scenically very impressive. Our bus wound its way up the Black Mountains curve after curve. We had perfect weather. The sun was shining and allowed us a clear view that reached further with every meter of altitude. The road snaked along the partly steep mountain slopes in tight serpentines until we crossed the pass and finally drove down into the valley.
Phobjikha Valley: Winter Home of the Black-Necked Cranes
The Phobjikha Valley is a very special retreat. It serves as the wintering ground for the rare Black-necked Cranes from Tibet. There is a nice observation about this. When the birds arrive, they circle the local Gangtey Monastery three times. And apparently, they do the same when they leave again. Even the animals seem to have a connection to the Dharma here. We were lucky and some of us saw the first cranes that had already arrived.
Phobjikha-Tal
Our lunch was organized for us in an open field right in front of Khewang Lhakhang. We enjoyed it with a wide view into the valley. Afterwards, we visited the temple itself. Inside are still the original statues, which at a good 500 years old are as ancient as the building itself. One of these statues is particularly well-known, as it is said to have spoken twice already.
Khewang Lhakhang
I especially remember the story that’s connected to this place: A demon had taken the form of a young woman to deceive a young man. When the man died, the demon wanted to bring the body into the temple. But the Buddha statue spoke and denied him entry. The demon had to move on and was finally defeated by the deceased’s real girlfriend. A small stupa still stands at this spot today. Such events are not just fairy tales here; they are part of the living spiritual landscape.
Gangtey Goenpa: Spiritual Center of the Nyingmapa
The crowning conclusion of this day was Gangtey Goenpa. It sits on a ridge above the valley and is far more than just a beautiful building. It is the largest and most important Nyingmapa monastery in western central Bhutan and is considered the spiritual heart of the entire region.
The history of this place goes back a long way and begins with a vision. The great “Treasure Finder” (Terton) Pema Lingpa visited the valley in the late 15th century. He looked at the ridge and prophesied that one of his descendants would build a monastery there one day. This prophecy was fulfilled in 1613 when his grandson Rigdzin Pema Thinley founded the monastery.
Gangtey Goenpa
Architecturally, it is fascinating. At first glance, it looks like a Dzong, meaning one of the mighty fortresses we had seen before. But if you look closely, you notice a crucial difference. The military elements are missing. There are no arrow slits and no defensive walls. It was designed purely as a place of peace and practice. I was particularly impressed by the elaborate wood carvings visible everywhere, testifying to the high level of craftsmanship.
Impressions (in order): Wall mural of Dharmapala Gyalpo Pehar in the entrance area, the view up to the intricate wooden architecture, and the sunny courtyard.
Today, the monastery is a very lively place and acts as the seat of the Pema Lingpa tradition as well as the seat of the master’s ninth reincarnation. About 140 monks live here. Together with the nearby Shedra, the Buddhist college, they ensure that the teaching is not only preserved here but actively studied and lived.
I had a special experience inside the temple. We had gone in to pay our respects to the Buddhas and chant together. Scarcely had we entered the hall when the power went out and it became pitch dark instantly. In the light of our phones, we looked for a place to sit. For about ten minutes, we chanted in this darkness, illuminated only by the faint flickering of a few butter lamps. That created a very unique mood. Suddenly the light came back on. Only at that moment did I see what was directly on the wall opposite me. My gaze fell on a beautiful mural of the 21 Taras. That was an unexpected and deeply moving moment for me.
Actually, we had a specific hope in our hearts for our return to Thimphu and Paro: We wanted to try to get an audience with the King. But as so often in life, plans do not always go in a straight line. Karmic conditions had intended another encounter for us, which we had not expected in this way.
I will tell you about that and our ascent to the famous Tiger’s Nest in the next part.
About Author: Gongjue Tuji
As a committed Buddhist and initiator of the Xuanfa Dharmazentrum, Gongjue Tuji has made it his mission to help other people integrate the teachings of Buddhism into their daily lives. In this blog, he regularly provides insights into his experiences, current news and highlights fascinating aspects of the Buddha-Dharma.
In the southwestern suburbs of Xining, where the air grows thin and the spirit grows light, stands one of the most significant sites in the Buddhist world: Kumbum Monastery.
Known in Tibetan as Kumbum Jampa Ling, meaning “A Supreme Temple of a Hundred Thousand Lion’s Roar Buddha Images,” this sprawling complex is far more than just a collection of buildings. It is a living monument to Lama Tsongkhapa, the revered founder of the Gelug (Yellow Hat) sect of Tibetan Buddhism.
The Legend of the Golden Tree
Unlike many temples built to house statues, Kumbum was built to house a pagoda.
Legend tells us that Tsongkhapa was born here in 1357. When his mother cut his umbilical cord, drops of blood fell to the earth, and from that spot grew a miraculous sandalwood tree—the “Tree of Great Merit.” It is said this tree had 100,000 leaves, each bearing a natural image of the Buddha.
Years later, when Tsongkhapa was studying in Tibet, his mother sent a letter begging him to return. He replied that he could not leave his studies, but sent a self-portrait and a “Lion’s Roar” image, instructing her to build a pagoda over his birthplace. “Seeing this pagoda,” he promised, “is the same as seeing me.” In 1379, the Julian Pagoda was built, forming the sacred heart of what would become Kumbum Monastery.
Kumbum is world-renowned for its harmonious blend of traditional Tibetan and Chinese Han architectural styles.
1. The Eight Pagodas of Buddha Shakyamuni
Greeting visitors in the front square are eight gleaming white pagodas. Built in 1776, they commemorate the eight great merits and virtues of Buddha Shakyamuni. Each stands 6.4 meters tall, decorated with delicate Sanskrit scriptures and guardian lions, serving as a powerful symbol of the monastery’s spiritual authority.
2. The Grand Golden Tiled Hall
This is the soul of the monastery. With its gilded copper roof and emerald glazed-tile walls, the hall radiates a celestial glow. Inside, you will find an 11-meter-tall golden tower wrapped in white sandalwood and encrusted with jewels. At its peak sits a statue of Tsongkhapa. For pilgrims, meeting this tower is considered a direct meeting with the Master himself.
3. The Main Assembly Hall
Spanning nearly 2,000 square meters, this is the center of monastic life. Under a flat roof adorned with gilded bronze bells and “Aquarius” vases, hundreds of monks gather to recite sutras. The interior is a sensory masterpiece of colorful streamers and intricate carvings.
Dhammapala Hall
The “Three Artistic Wonders” of Kumbum
Kumbum is celebrated throughout Asia for its “Three Arts,” which represent the peak of Tibetan craftsmanship and devotion.
I. Vivid Yak Butter Sculptures
In the freezing depths of winter, when fresh flowers were unavailable for offerings, monks began carving flowers from yak butter. This evolved into a sophisticated art form. In the Yak Butter Sculpture Hall, you can see entire landscapes, pavilions, and deities crafted with impossible detail. To keep the butter from melting while they work, monks must dip their hands in ice water—a true testament to their endurance and faith.
II. Imaginative Barbola (Embroidered Appliqué)
Barbola is a unique form of 3D silk embroidery. By layering silk and cotton, artists create raised patterns that give the figures of Buddhas and animals a lifelike, three-dimensional appearance. The “Sixteen Disciples of Buddha” housed in the Main Assembly Hall are considered national treasures.
III. Exquisite Murals
The walls of Kumbum are alive with color. Using special mineral pigments that remain vibrant for centuries, these murals depict the life of Shakyamuni and scenes from the sutras. During the Sutra-viewing Festival, a massive 30-meter-long Buddha scroll is unfurled on the hillside, a breathtaking sight known as the “Great Buddha Exhibition.”
Kumbum Monastery hosts four major Dharma assemblies annually, held during the first, fourth, sixth, and ninth months of the lunar calendar. These gatherings are a blend of traditional festivals and grand religious events unique to the monastery. During these times, the temple comes alive with sacred activities, including monastic debates, mask dances, and sutra chanting.
A highlight of these fairs is the Cham Dance, where monks wear ornate masks and vibrant costumes, using dramatic gestures to express profound Buddhist teachings to the rhythm of cymbals and suonas (traditional horns). One of the most awe-inspiring sights is the Giant Thangka Unveiling, where a massive, delicate image of Tsongkhapa is unfurled down the mountainside. For the faithful, witnessing this Thangka is considered a direct and holy encounter with the Master himself.
Thangka Exhibition during the Buddha Festival
In July 2006, this sacred temple issued its formal recognition and congratulations to H.H. Dorje Chang Buddha III
United International World Buddhism Association Headquarters:
Under auspicious circumstances, we were happy to learn of the publication of A Treasury of True Buddha-Dharma—Complete Proficiency in Exoteric and Esoteric Buddhism and Perfect Mastery of the Five Vidyas about the Buddha Vajradhara, H.H. Master Yangwo Wan Ko Yeshe Norbu. His Holiness’s outstanding accomplishments are unprecedented. We respectfully send this letter of congratulations and joyfully offer our praise.
His actions and mind are pure, and His good fortune and wisdom are limitless. He benefits myriad living beings, and His willpower never tires. His powerful virtue is widespread, and His appearance is completely dignified. He truly abides in peace and His accomplishments are perfect!
Qinghai Skuvbum Monastery An auspicious day in July of 2006
Below is the original copy of the recognition letter in Chinese:
In the annals of spiritual history, few figures are as revolutionary as Huineng (慧能), the Sixth Patriarch of Zen (Chan) Buddhism. His life story is a profound testament to the idea that enlightenment is not reserved for the elite or the scholarly, but is the inherent birthright of every human being.
Known for the iconic verse you mentioned—“Bodhi originally has no tree”—Huineng transformed Zen from a complex Indian philosophy into the direct, spontaneous practice we recognize today.
Huineng’s journey did not begin in a monastery. He was born into a poor family in 7th-century China and worked as an illiterate woodcutter to support his widowed mother.
His life changed in an instant when he overheard a traveler reciting the Diamond Sutra. Upon hearing the line, “Depending upon nothing, the mind arises,” Huineng experienced a sudden moment of clarity. This “sudden awakening” became the hallmark of his future teachings.
Driven by this experience, he traveled to the Dongshan Monastery to seek guidance from the Fifth Patriarch, Hongren.
Huineng’s status as an illiterate outsider meant he was initially assigned to the kitchen to hull rice. When the time came for the Fifth Patriarch to choose a successor, he asked his disciples to write a “mind-verse” to demonstrate their understanding.
The lead disciple, Shenxiu, wrote a verse emphasizing constant, diligent practice:
“The body is the Bodhi tree; the mind is like a bright mirror on a stand. Take care to wipe it always, and let no dust collect.”
Huineng, hearing the verse, realized it missed the ultimate truth of emptiness. He dictated his now-famous response to be written on the wall:
“Bodhi originally has no tree.The bright mirror on a stand is also not real.From the beginning, not a single thing exists.Where, then, can dust collect?”
Hongren recognized Huineng’s superior realization and secretly passed him the robe and bowl—the symbols of the Patriarchy—in the middle of the night, instructing him to go into hiding until the time was right to teach.
Huineng eventually emerged from hiding and began teaching at Nanhua Temple. His impact on Buddhism was so immense that his teachings were recorded in the Platform Sutra of the Sixth Patriarch. This is the only Buddhist scripture not spoken by a Buddha to be officially granted the title of a “Sutra.”
His major achievements include:
The Southern School of Zen: He founded the “Southern School,” which emphasizes “Sudden Enlightenment” (Dunwu) over gradual study.
Democratizing Wisdom: He taught that the “Buddha-nature” is present in everyone, regardless of literacy or social status.
The Foundation of Zen: Nearly all surviving Zen lineages (including Japanese Zen and Korean Seon) trace their ancestry back to Huineng.
A Living Legacy: The Whole-Body Relic
Perhaps the most miraculous aspect of Huineng’s story is his physical departure from this world. In 713 AD, Huineng entered Nirvana, but his body did not decay.
To this day, his whole-body relic (mummy) is enshrined and preserved at Nanhua Temple in Shaoguan, Guangdong Province. For over 1,300 years, devotees have traveled to the temple to pay respects to the Sixth Patriarch. His physical presence remains a powerful symbol of the “Diamond Body”—the incorruptible nature of a truly enlightened mind.
Huineng reminds us that we do not need to look outside ourselves for wisdom. As he famously taught, our original nature is pure, and enlightenment is simply the act of seeing through the “dust” to the emptiness that was there all along.
Peace LiLy 