September 22nd Lamayuru Monastery – Part Two
To continue where I left off in my last post, I found Lamayuru Monastery really charming. Not only did the architectural spaces seem personal and intimate, but the experience of them was diverse and unexpected. One temple to the next seemed different in character and time.
The Dukhang, or main temple, is hidden behind a stairway façade, the doors of which open to reveal a fully enclosed courtyard, open only to the sky above. From here there is access to temples located on higher levels.
The Dukhang’s interior has an enclosed two-story atrium surrounded by colonnade. It was dramatically lit from skylights above, the main source of lighting in this semi-dark hall.
Lining the walls are a library of scriptures and a rich collection of statuary honoring the Kagyu lineage, including such luminaries as the masters Tilopa, Naropa, Marpa, and Milarepa.
Along this same wall, K and I did a collective gasp when our monk guide opened a small door to reveal a cave where the amazing Naropa had meditated in the 11th century. Visiting caves that have been graced by enlightened masters is not merely a curiosity. It is considered a blessing. Lay persons and adepts alike seek these places to meditate in the presence of greatness achieved.
Now incorporated into the temple, Naropa’s cave must have been at one time a separate and secret retreat. He is the mahasiddha who developed the yogi practice known as the Six Yogas of Naropa, which has been in continual use by practitioners since he introduced it. This is predominantly the method yogis at Kardang Monastery, for example, utilize in attaining their feats of mind over matter. To learn more, see this earlier post.
This next small temple off the same courtyard as the main temple is dedicated to reliquaries.
Marpa was a famously tough master with his disciple Milarepa, whom he refused to teach when the latter came repeatedly to seek his guidance. Instead he asked Milarepa thrice to single-handedly construct him a building–then tear it down! That is to say, he made the hapless disciple build something, then destroy it, on three different occasions. In a sense, Milarepa needed such profound purification for his prior spiteful and mass-murderous deeds.
Next up was seeing the Avalokiteshvara temple, where my breath was taken away again by the exquisite sculpture there.
I really loved this temple for its beautiful Avalokiteshvara statue, bodhisattva of compassion, also known as Chenrezig–thousand-armed and eleven-headed, all the better to see, hear, and lend a helping hand to the suffering. It was located in an inner sanctum behind the altar.
While the wall paintings in the Avalokiteshvara temple probably date from a later period judging from stylistic differences, it is possible that this statue dates to the earlier Indo-Tibetan period. Purely conjecture, but I was comparing the similarities in the face of Avalokiteshvara with this Vairocana from Sumda Chun, a remote and largely untouched monastery from the 11th century. These statues have more formal affinity with each other than do the Avalokiteshvara with the painting of one from the same Lamayuru temple.
It looks to me that this painting shows more Chinese influence, which would indicate it was created later than Indo-Tibetan period, probably post-13th century.
I heard a story that the goddess Tara emanated from Avalokiteshvara when, upon realizing the magnitude of the samsaric condition for all sentient beings, he shed tears. One tear became White Tara, and the other Green Tara.
Today, Tara retreats are one of the more common kriya tantras taught. She has contemporary feminist appeal as a female buddha. She is also an empowering figure in being regarded as Mother of All Buddhas. Additionally, as a bodhisattva who, seeing the gender bias of the male-dominated precinct of enlightenment in Buddhist religious order, vows to be reborn life after life in order to attain enlightenment in female form. I am reminded of what I have read about Jetsunma Tenzin Palmo, the British-born Tibetan Buddhist nun who spent twelve years in solitary meditation in a cave in Lahaul above Tayul Monastery, and who experienced such gender-bias in monastic orders.
Lamayuru Monastery, Ladakh
Lamayuru Monastery–what an experience, and it’s grown fonder in my memory…
All photos © 2013, Eva Lee.