Finding Shambhala
I have found paradise on earth. A place where all people have what they need to thrive. Where violence and war are things of the past, and humans live in harmony and balance with their ecosystems. I have been to Shambhala, it is real, let me show you.
March 2019
I was driving north from San Francisco for a weekend long community ceremony. It was cold, raining, and the roads were slick and dangerous. My thoughts matched the gloom as I pondered my intentions.
It felt like a dark time. Climate change was accelerating and global leadership doing nothing about it. President Trump was wreaking havoc on our country’s ability to collectively achieve anything. My thoughts spiraled around distressed questions: How can we get ourselves out of this mess? Why do narcissistic strongmen run the world? How can I be a good leader of a different kind? How can I help?
Not long ago someone had bestowed upon me the nickname Optimist Prime. My friends called me this with love, and a bit of needling, as I would always find a way to drop in some hope no matter the situation. I seemed to have been born with this positive bent. When I was eleven and my parents divorced, my main memory is excitement about now having two homes to play in. When my mom met my now step-father a year later and asked me how I felt about a new parental figure coming into my life, I said “there’s just more love to go around!” I also had enough privilege to make it easier to see glasses as half full, and I developed a belief that things couldn’t change for the better if you didn’t see that change was possible. So I saw optimism as a superpower of mine, a role I often chose to inhabit because I thought it was helpful to myself and others. But now this optimism had begun to wane.
I had worked so hard throughout my life to do my part in bringing about a more beautiful world, and seen most of my efforts falter; corrupted, co-opted or crushed by the systems and powers that be. Recently, I had spent seven years helping build a solar startup that was driving down the cost of residential solar, only to see it acquired by a massive energy company whose shareholders rebelled against the attempt to pivot from fossil fuels to clean energy, and so they shut down everything we had built. Now, I was two years into starting the Terran Collective with some close friends to try and figure out how to live and work in different ways. We were exploring how to collaborate effectively, share power and resources in deep solidarity, find our personal and collective purposes, and bring our gifts into the world to help shift culture towards greater cooperation. We had done some great experiments but had not yet made the type of progress we envisioned. In particular we hadn’t been able to attract enough others to join us in our radical visions, and I was starting to doubt my leadership abilities.
Despite my despair and demoralization, I was still looking for silver linings and next steps, and this weekend would be a time to reflect, reset, and hopefully illuminate the ways I could best continue my purposeful work.
We arrived at the retreat center, set up our tents in the rain and went into the ceremony space to get settled for the evening. One man immediately caught my attention. He had piercing but warm eyes that exuded presence, depth, and care. His name was Robbie and he would be one of the musicians playing for us that evening. When I told him my name was Tibet his ears perked up, as he had a passion for Tibetan Buddhism. He asked me the story of how I got my name and I gave him the short version — “hippie parents”. He responded, “Tonight, I will sing about Tibet.’’
We found our way to seats in the circle. I was nestled into a corner of the room with big windows all around, revealing the misty gray outline of dripping oaks against the darkening sky. The ritual began.
Our evening unfolded with expert facilitation, guided by an incredible group of musicians. They played songs from many different traditions, much of it original and improvised. My meditations led me right back into an exploration of the balance between leadership and ego. I thought about how the people in charge of our society tend to be the ones with an overinflated sense of self importance. Our culture is set up to reward them, honor them for their “confidence” and “decisive action”, regardless of whether they are making decisions that are actually good for people and the planet. I felt so clearly the need for different kinds of leaders, ones who generate and wield power with and for people, not to dominate. This did not mean shrinking, but instead orienting and channeling one’s ego and efforts towards service to all of life.
Halfway through the evening, Robbie came over and sat near me. He began to play a song that told a story from the life of Padmasambhava, the great Indian teacher credited with bringing Buddhism to Tibet in the 8th century. I had grown up with an image of Padmasambhava on my wall, as my dad taught me Tibetan mantras and meditation techniques early in life, but I had never studied much more about this revered guru. Robbie’s song re-engaged in me a strong feeling of connection to Tibet-the-place that I had long ignored or put aside. When I was one year old my parents brought me to see the Dalai Lama’s personal physician Yeshi Dhonden, and he gave me a Tibetan name: Yeshi Tendar. It means: spreader of the teaching of omniscient wisdom. No pressure, just a small goal to aspire to 😊 Then at age three I started having dreams of people in orange robes, and once, upon seeing a poster of the Dalai Lama exclaimed “That’s my teacher!” But as I got older I felt uncomfortable claiming any kind of connection to Tibet, as a white American with no direct relationship to that distant land. I went so far as to avoid exploring Tibetan spirituality in depth because of this discomfort, though every time I came across a Tibetan teaching or practice I felt resonance with it.
After the ritual ended I immediately went up to Robbie to thank him, and asked if he had heard the Shambhala Warrior Prophecy. This 1200 year old prophecy was transmitted to one of my greatest teachers, Joanna Macy, by a Tibetan Buddhist teacher of hers. Her version of it had deeply inspired me since I first heard her speak it a year before. Robbie had yet to encounter it so I pulled it up and read it on the spot. In a nutshell, the prophecy foretells a time of great turmoil, when barbarians driven by greed and ignorance will take dominion over the planet. At this time, spiritual warriors will arise, people who embody and wield the two “weapons” of compassion and insight (into the interdependence of all things), which when used together wisely can defeat these barbarians. These warriors will come together to protect and preserve the world from the suffering and destruction caused by unchecked materialism and violence (I highly recommend reading the full version.) Robbie was visibly moved by the prophecy, and I left him lost in thought as I headed out to my tent, with lightning flashing overhead.
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The next morning while walking the land I looked up to see a family of deer just a few feet ahead of me. We paused to check each other out. I appreciated their huge ears, turned towards me, so attuned to everything around them. Their movements were graceful and slow, but I could almost feel their muscles primed to shift into action in an instant if needed. After a few long moments they returned to their grazing, and faded back into the forest.
As dusk approached we settled into our seats for the second night of the ceremony. This night was difficult. I was digging through my internal muck, the places I felt stuck or held back, and it was painful. I asked, why is this so hard? Why have I been working myself to the bone, giving so much of myself, and not seeing great changes come from it? The answer came back: You have to put in the work to get the reward, knowing that those blessings may not come right away, or in the form you expected. This is how reciprocity works, you must learn to give without expectation, and receive without guilt. Reciprocity builds relationship, trust and solidarity, which is what is needed to shift culture. If you are of service, the world will give you gifts in return, you just have to listen, pay attention, and be patient.
Once again, halfway through the evening, Robbie came over and sat near me, and began to sing and play his Hang drum. His voice was angelic, and he was singing the Shambhala Warrior Prophecy! He seemed to be in a trance, having somehow absorbed this ancient parable heard for the first time only the night before. Now he was sharing it so directly and clearly through song. I was astounded and delighted. It moved me to tears, and I felt a stirring of hope. I saw the Shambhala Warriors rising up around the world. The barbarian hordes seething and fighting but ultimately falling down and dropping their weapons. Then I saw myself among these warriors, stepping into my most confident, true self. My heart full of compassion, openness, and love. My mind clear and decisive about what needed to be done. I felt a deep peace settle over my body.
The song came to a perfect end, the final notes ringing through the space for what seems like an eternity, and as they faded out I heard myself and everyone around exhale a sigh of wonder and gratitude. Then there was a moan of pleasure rippling across the room. I felt it in my body too, almost like a collective orgasm, and as that experience moved through me I had a vision.
I saw that we, the people in this room, but even beyond that, all of humankind, had in that moment given collective birth to a new world. We had achieved a moment of global unity, and through that experience of oneness, all wars had ended. All it took was a single moment of every person realizing our interconnectedness, to make obvious the pointlessness of violence and greed. We could see clearly that an injustice anywhere is an injustice everywhere. That the good of all is the best outcome for me, so greed is unnecessary and unhelpful. Through this realization, humanity had achieved a just transition to a world that works for all. An age of interbeing, of integration, of true peace and harmony had dawned! All people would now have everything they needed to thrive. We had done it. There was no question this was real, I felt it so deeply in every cell of my body. I knew it to be true.
A wave of pure, unadulterated joy flooded through my body the likes of which I have never felt before or since. I imagined how we would come home and everyone would be dancing and celebrating in the streets. The news would be incredible and incredulous. Wars ending, truth and reconciliation processes starting worldwide, prisons closing and families reunited, inequity at an all time low, hate crimes, in fact all violent crimes, a thing of the past. I saw myself walking through the streets of my neighborhood in San Francisco, all signs of poverty and homelessness gone. As I walked, everyone I passed looked me in the eye with a smile and I realized that they felt safe, and from a place of security and comfort they could trust their neighbors again. I saw streams restored, salmon returning to them, and forests regenerated, as we began to re-balance our relationship to the web of life. I saw the united governments of the world coming together to sign a truly binding climate agreement that committed each country to becoming carbon negative by 2050. We would be good stewards of the earth from now on. I lay back and basked in this feeling, reveling in the pure ecstasy of it all. It was unbelievable, but I knew it to be true.
Then, a new song started, the energy shifted, and a grounding wave hit me. Just as suddenly as it came on, I knew that this vision was not reality. There’s no way such a massive shift like that could happen in a moment, change doesn’t happen like that. Ouch. I came back down to earth with a painful thud. There was a moment of profound grief, and then embarrassment. How had I let myself get so caught up in a vision like this? How could I have believed it to be real?
Despite my thoughts swirling with confusion and disappointment, the physical feeling of pleasure was still ringing through my body. I had experienced such a profound sensation of joy and relaxation, that even in the whiplash of coming back to present day earth it persisted. So I took some breaths, slowed down, and thought about what I had just experienced. Certainly it was a vision, not totally moored to reality, but it felt so powerfully true. What meaning could I make of it? What came to me next is that perhaps this moment of unity had in fact happened. Maybe we had actually given birth to this new society, or even just a small part of it, and now it was just a baby. It was not guaranteed it would thrive or even survive. Now we had to care for it, and protect it, so it could grow up and truly become the way we live on this planet. This idea was satisfying and I decided to run with it. Mark this day I thought, March 23, 2019, as the day a new world was born! Now how do we raise it? Who will be the primary caretakers? Time to go find the other Shambhala Warriors to help me with this massive task. A deep sense of resolve and duty arose in me. There felt nothing more important than holding this vision of a world that works for all, and nurturing it, feeding it, helping it grow.
I thought of the deer and the way they move through the world gently, alertly, patiently, and then with great speed only when needed. Even when moving fast they still navigate with such grace and awareness of their ecosystem. I felt myself accept a deeper patience in my path. No, societal change doesn’t happen in a moment, it happens through many steps over time, sometimes careful and graceful ones, sometimes bursts of energy and speed, sometimes with a stumble backwards before we continue forward. We also can’t truly know where we are headed, the process is too complex and emergent. Still, we can play a meaningful part in this change by paying attention, attuning to what’s happening and what’s needed, and working in community to slowly evolve culture over time. I would focus my energies locally, find the folks around me who resonated with these visions, and who were ready to get to work together, co-parenting a new way of being.
In the days and weeks afterwards as I integrated this experience, one core piece stayed with me the most. I had experienced what it would feel like to live in paradise on earth, and damn it felt gooood. I had found the kingdom of Shambhala in myself. This embodied feeling of pure joy will always live in me as something I can access. One of my goals is now to help others tap into moments like this, where they can taste what a more beautiful world could actually be like. Once you’ve felt it you want nothing more than to be there, or work so future generations can live it, and that drive is a powerful motivating force to be of service to life.
I have also developed a different relationship with Optimist Prime. He is still a part of me, but more well integrated. I have landed in a more grounded realism about the state of the world and the challenges we face to turn things around. Things have gone too far to avoid a whole lot of suffering no matter what we do, but I am still confident that it is possible for humans to step into a different role on the planet as good stewards of our shared home. It’s like Joanna says, we are simultaneously living through the Great Unraveling, and the Great Turning, and where we end up will depend on the choices each of us make. To be able to navigate the Unraveling, and participate in the Turning it is necessary to feel the pain of the world. One must let in the devastation and trauma happening across this planet right now, grieve and rage about it, but not let anxiety or depression take over. I am now more able to do this because hope lies in a deeper place in me. My vision of Shambhala continues to fill a well of peace and possibility that I can tap into even in my darkest moments, to keep me sane and moving forward
A couple years passed after that ceremony and I was at Harbin Hot Springs sitting in the quiet reflection pool when Robbie appeared. We had not seen each other since that weekend, and we both lit up as he came straight over to me. He immediately whispered in my ear, “I recorded that song, the Shambhala Warrior song!” I was astonished, and responded with some more exciting news. Just a few weeks back I had reached out to the now 93 year old Joanna and asked if I could come over to her apartment in Berkeley and cook her dinner, and she said yes! Robbie and I agreed that when I saw her I would tell her this story and play her the song.
A few days later I am cooking salmon, asparagus and corn on the cob in Joanna Macy’s kitchen. She is regaling me with stories of her time living in India, meeting and building beautiful relationships with the Tibetan refugees there. Even at her advanced age she is still so vibrant, joyful, and happy to both share and receive stories and wisdom. We sit on the deck and eat and she asks me about my history, my passions, my work with Terran. She loves hearing about the hopeful projects younger generations are working on. After dinner we move inside for tea and I tell her this story you are reading now. She sits quietly, transfixed, and when we listen to the song together she is deeply moved, we both are. She wants to meet Robbie, and host a house concert of his music. I will help organize. She tears up and tells me “thank you for this gift, this epiphany. I’ve been sharing the prophecy for so long, and guiding people into visions of a more beautiful future, but often I hold these stories as fantasies which we use to inspire each other. But what if they aren’t just fantasies? What if the prophecy is real? Why not? Why can’t it be real?” In that moment I feel it again, as real as it was in March 2019, and shiver with the joy and wonder of it all. Why not indeed?
This story was written as part of a 6-week course called Parables of Change - “a course for changemakers who have a story inside them and feel the time has come to finally put it into words.” A group of 7 of us went through the course together, each committed to publishing a story at the end. I highly recommend joining a future cohort, I gained so many tools for writing, and the accountability of the cohort was really valuable.
