HH the 14th Dalai Lama was conferring the 1991 Kalachakra Initiation for World Peace and eminent lamas from all four schools of Tibetan Buddhism were offering teachings on the nature of mind. New York City’s usual jostle and heated tempo had dissolved as if by magic—everything seemed much less pressing. The amphitheater of Madison Square Garden and local venues had been transformed into a Himalayan hidden land…

“I can’t count mantra.” I confess this out loud in the shrine tent amid the gathering of three hundred of Sogyal Rinpoche’s senior and most devoted students from around the world. I didn’t know how to use a mala—Buddhist beads for counting sacred syllables, a method to pacify discursive thoughts. Nor did I particularly want to use the mala…

Sogyal Rinpoche’s teachings that summer unfolded a magic carpet of Buddhist practices. When I returned home from Lerab Ling in the fall of 1992, several sangha members noticed how differently I sat on my cushion: my posture was “inspiring,” “so straight!” and “confident.” One sangha brother said bluntly, “You’re just much nicer to be with than before.” The teachings had exposed my timid heart and helped me to recognize self-deception, and how to cut through it.

The day with Zenkar Rinpoche began innocently enough packing up his books and other items for his flight back to London. For our tea break, I filled the kettle, turned on the stove and left the water to boil, expecting it to whistle. I didn’t know that Rinpoche’s hosts customarily used the oven shelving as storage space for things that should not be stored in an oven. The kettle whistle didn’t work, but the smell of smoke did as it…