Sitting in a conference room in a motel in Tucson just about five years ago, I heard unexpected words that absolutely thrilled me.
It was already an exciting moment - nearly 200 people were gathered with Geshe Michael Roach and Lama Christie McNally at a Hogwarts’ Dinner of sorts, to share stories and gratitude and hopes about our time at Diamond Mountain University, which was commencing the following day. A good many of us were there to start six years of study and practice of the highest teachings - teachings designed to propel us to quickly realize our dreams of reaching a state of being where we could truly benefit others, remove suffering, and attain peace.
It was a dream come true, my finding Geshe Michael and Diamond Mountain. Without hesitation, I had left Seattle - the good life: a great job, the ‘perfect’ climate and environment of mountains and trees and ocean and rivers, exciting culture, a great apartment in a cool neighborhood - to be without a job and living in a trailer home in a tiny economically depressed town in the middle of the dry, hot, southeast Arizonan desert, and starting studies at a place that was barely more than a few scratches in the sand.
On the face of it, it seems crazy - but none of those extraordinary attributes of my life in the Emerald City could hold a candle to what was offered at Diamond Mountain. They became meaningless in the face of the potential to bring peace to the world. I had long-searched for a place that held this potential for me. I had found it, and that dinner was the eve of my journey to realize that potential. As my teacher was speaking, I couldn’t have imagined being any more excited.
And then, after he painted the picture of his vision for the next six years, he shared what would come after those years of study: he and Lama Christie were planning to do another three-year retreat, and they wanted us to join them.
I wish words existed to convey the emotion I felt and still feel when I recall that moment. Imagine the thing you desire that’s so high, so seemingly improbable, so rare and precious, that you barely give it voice, as doing so might bring it all crashing down in the mire of “that’s not how life is, sweetie,” and therefore all the less likely to come true. And here was my teacher, this extraordinary man, giving me the most precious gift I could imagine: the possibility of spending three years, three months, and three days in silence, with his guidance, protected from distraction - the playing field on which to explore my mind, smash the demons of self-centeredness, realize my true nature, and open my heart.
