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Recalling Prajna
Prajna destroyed by fire
If you have a story about Prajna--a recollection of an important event, a personal encounter, photographs, etc--please post it here by sending an email to
For a detailed account on the fire at Prajna, visit the Shambhala Times article: The Night Prajna Burned Down
Prajna, the Shambhala Mountain Center home of Chögyam Trungpa Rinpoche, and since 1987 Sakyong Mipham Rinpoche, burned to the ground in an early morning fire on April 7, 2009.
Prajna was the site of the first session of the College of Denma. It is the place where Trungpa Rinpoche wrote the Magyal Pomra protector chant, and where he held meetings with his cabinet, privy council, translators, and students. He sometimes referred to Prajna as the Kalapa Camp, and always seemed to enjoy time spent there. The small house, which was often filled to more than overflowing with visitors, house staff, kusung, and kasung, is the backdrop for many stories about Trungpa Rinpoche's activities, and interactions with his students. After Trungpa Rinpoche's death, Prajna became Sakyong Mipham Rinpoche's residence at Shambhala Mountain Center, where it continued to be the setting for many important events and service to the teacher and his family.
Shambhala News Service bulletin
07 Apr 2009
Fire at Prajna, Shambhala Mountain Center
In the early hours of today (Tuesday 7 April), Prajna, the wooden summer retreat house used by the Vidyadhara and the Sakyong at Shambhala Mountain Center, caught fire. In a very short time the house was engulfed in flames and burned to the ground. With the recent snowfall the danger was reduced, although some trees in the immediate vicinity were burned. The volunteer fire department responded with multiple trucks and the Shambhala Mountain Center fire volunteers are standing watch over the smoldering remains. It is not clear at this point what caused the fire, but an investigation will be conducted.
The Sakyong and Sakyong Wangmo were informed this morning, Halifax time, and are following the situation closely. The Sakyong has requested that the Shambhala Mountain Center community gather to conduct protector practices, perform a long lhasang to invoke windhorse and raise the aspiration for the establishment of a new court for the lineage, long-needed at Shambhala Mountain Center.
Those involved with the care of the residence and its furnishings have also been informed. Most important artefacts and texts were no longer housed there.
"This fire, and the complete devastation of the residence, has come as a shock to us all," the Sakyong said this morning. "Many practitioners have come to Prajna to serve in the court, to meet me, to attend special events and to be part of the many celebrations that have been hosted there. So it is associated with many fond and moving memories in all our minds. Both Khandro-la and I have the community at Shambhala Mountain Center very much in our hearts at this time, and appreciate their valiant efforts through the night. At the same time, this is a moment to reflect on how we move forward from here, recognizing the potent truth of impermanence, and turning our minds to what is now needed to provide an appropriate lineage seat at this vital centre in our mandala."
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Photo by Denise Wuensch
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Time at Prajna,
Time at Prajna was often quite simple - a very earthy manifestation of the Vidyadhara - in khakis, watching the flag raising, blessing the tea offering, greeting the staff on the way to his car.
Rinpoche enjoyed sipping tea or sake on the deck, counting the prairie dogs, asking what the Seminarians were having for dinner, or who was leading a particular practice session happening "downtown". Rinpoche was so interested in the little details
-Wendy Friedman
Dear All,
So sorry to hear of this fire - it's such a strange event, and no doubt uncomfortable, puzzling and disturbing for many people who will feel a sense of loss. The reality of impermanence comes home to us all again. Here in Australia in Victoria people endured the most brutal fire in our history. Over 200 lives were lost, countless homes, all possessions for so many people. I send you my love and concern.
Sincerely, Juno Gemes
Raiding Prajna
by Carol DeBartolis Stamaty
Under the guise of delivering the Vidyadhara the Statue of Liberty and a
Crystal Apple, 10 members of the New York City contingent, approached prajna
on a mid August night.
It was the Vajrayana portion of 1985 Vajradhatu Seminary and the New Yorkers
decided to harness their Vajra energy and prove they could outsmart the
Kasung. Glenn Dorskind who pushed the “raid” and despised authority, was
more interested in proving Rinpoche’s guards inept, while the rest of us
just wanted to get near the guru.
After a few reconnaissance trials, we learned the positions of the perimeter
guards and that Patty, who was doing her first overnight, was a nervous
wreck. Although she was from New York, we kept her out of the loop – mission
over friendship.
We met at midnight without flashlights, dark clothing and charcoal covered
faces. We approached Prajna crawling on hands and knees. Eventually we saw
Rinpoche sitting on the porch having dinner with two female guests. Patty
was wiggling her flashlight in the dark, shouting, "Who’s there?" Her
commander quickly organized a search and we were quickly surrounded by over
zealous Kasung and bright lights. We were brought before Rinpoche and his
guests. "If you don’t talk I will choose one of you and tickle his/her foot
until you break."
I was chosen, but I never spoke, nor did I walk back to my tent that night;
I floated across the field and for days my feet never touched the ground.
Photo by Denise Wuensch
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A common dilemma
by Michael Mclellan
Prajna was originally commissioned / built by Terry Kemp early on after the first winter, I believe. After he left for Boulder it became the coordinators house and eventually the guest house for the Vidyadhara and Regent. I lived there from 79 to 81 however, it became so popular that I eventually moved out because of the frequency of visits.
There were two bedrooms. The kitchen was sectioned off next to the living room. Although there was electricity, it was heated with a wood stove and there was no plumbing. The outhouse had a 55 gallon drum cut in half underneath.
Relative to the other houses at the time Prajna was--when fixed up with borrowed furniture from Boulder and elsewhere--quite elegant and comfortable in its rustic way.
Because the Vidyadhara held meetings and functions there, the free standing deck outside got a lot of use (as Clarke has mentioned) and would on a number of occasions not only be freezing cold but so dark that the servers would be stumbling around in the dark.
I always find it hard to put into words the experiences that rocked my world so much at the time with the Vidyadhara because you could say I still don't know what happened. I'm sure that describing the non-conceptual quality of experience with him is a common dilemma.
Drawing by Steve Vosper
Lunchtime at Prajna -- or was it breakfast?
by Randy Chakerian
I was doing a mid-day Kasung shift at Prajna during the '85 Seminary, the first tent Seminary held on the land. I was assigned to guard the back side of the house -- not a particularly glamorous post, I must say, compared to patrolling a perimeter or being inside and closer to the action -- but at least I was allowed to sit down while eating lunch.
In the course of mindlessly stuffing food in my face, slouched down in my chair in the mid-day sun, I happened to look up to see the Vidyadhara grinning at me behind the curtains in his bedroom window. I leapt up, spilling my food in the four directions, and snapped a very sloppy salute, much, I think, to his delight.
In due course someone came out, perhaps a Kusung -- I was quite an innocent Kasung then, and had joined up, I had insolently told my future squad leader only a few days earlier, primarily because "Everything Kasung drives me crazy" -- to tell me that Rinpoche would like to see me in his bedroom. This was not exactly how I had envisioned this shift to be going, or how I had envisioned meeting the guru, for that matter, but of course I complied, nervous as hell.
I think I was supposed to help with the tea offering, or perhaps it had something to do with incense. My mind was chaotic in Rinpoche's presence, while all *he* seemed to be interested in was the fact that I was Armenian, and did I know any good Armenian dishes? Unfortunately it was my father who was Armenian, the real deal, came over on the boat from the old country, and he never cooked a meal in his life, while my mother was a card-carrying southern DAR lady who *hated* cooking -- so I was at a total loss...
And of course the loss was mine, because had I been able to whip Rinpoche up a batch of fabulous Armenian mo-mo's, who *knows* where that might have led? I mean, look at Jim and Carolyn Gimian...
Recently I've been leading a Lojong discussion group in Oregon's only maximum-security prison and have come to recognize deeply that the truth of impermanence, as the Buddha and the Sakyong have said, is the most fundamental truth of our existence, but that bedroom window framing Rinpoche, and Rinpoche sitting patiently on the bed while I struggled to still my shaking hands while pouring tea -- or was it lighting incense -- will stay with me -- dare I say it -- "always."
There really was only one explanation
by Sakti Rose
I happened to be at RMDC staffing a Maitri intensive for the Contemplative Psychotherapy class. Rinpoche was already in the hospital when we arrived at RMDC. I remember walking on the land when the conch blew. We all knew what that meant. Personally, it was like my mind completely fell apart. Everyone on the land immediately proceeded to the Shrine hall where we formally learned that Rinpoche's body had passed on. Amid tears, trumpets, the incessant, continuous mumbling of mantras mingling with sobs continued well into the night.
The Lovelaces stayed at Prajna at that time and they said they had been, as always, very careful to close up all the windows and doors at Prajna when they left to be on the land that day. When they returned back around 2 a.m. they found all the doors and windows wide open - There really was only one explanation we all agreed.
If You Could Read My Mind, Love
by Sangyum Drukmo Yudra, Cynde Grieve
Time spent at Prajna with Trungpa Rinpoche could be immensely spacious even though much time was spent in small rooms. There was an elemental quality. The wind, the pines and it was a fine morning that began with breakfast on the deck.
This is not to say there wasn’t an element of claustrophobia involved. I remember just hanging out in the bedroom one day. Nothing much was going on and Rinpoche was being pretty quiet. I however had a question. I’m rotating it as we are wont to do - should I ask him it this way? Yeah, but maybe I should come at it from the other side? I really should try to keep it simple and straightforward but then again it’s important he know the details and blah and blah and blah. Heaven only knows what that question was but at that moment in time I was giving it a great deal of mental energy – no doubt I was twitching involuntarily and emitting small moans.
Suddenly I was awakened from my dilemma with the stern command. “JUST ASK!”
I never doubted from that moment he was capable of reading minds but I did often feel much compassion for him that he could and it certainly made me want to tidy up the flotsam and jetsam that washed up in my own.
Prajna had a special energy- an intangible palpableness- closely connected to the earth but clearly part of the sky. The building may be lost but the dralas abide.
Cynde Grieve
At that moment
by Marguerite Winnington-Ball
It was the summer of the 1986 seminary, the first and only “Never Forget the Hinayana” seminary. I joined the Kasung and was on shift at Kalapa Camp. The car was being prepared for departure, Tiger was on the move. I was instructed to lay my arm across the top of the door of Rinpoche’s Mercedes so that he would not hurt his head as he climbed in. I followed my instructions to the best of my awkward ability. As he sat
down, he raised his gaze in my direction. At that moment I looked back into fathomless space that emanated limitless compassion. As the car drove away, I lost it, but, of course, who wouldn’t have?
Prajna was built by Emur (Terry Kemp) and Deidre McCormick (now Stubbert) in the mid-70s, and was remodeled several times.
The last refuge name
by Laurie Fisher Huck
I was a very new student when I begged and bargained my way into the 1986 seminary. I had seen Rinpoche speak only once at Naropa before arriving at RMDC for the summer, and I needed to take the refuge vow. In preparation for the vow we had a short interview with the Vidyadhara during which he assigned our refuge names. I was very buzzed to see him up close and personal. We all were. There was a group of maybe 40 students. We were gathered together and trekked off to the vicinity of Prajna to wait in the woods until Rinpoche called for the interviews to begin. We were asked to maintain silence and it was lovely sitting amongst the beautiful trees sharing that sweet energy of anticipation. I guess the time just wasn't right. We were sent back and re-gathered the next day. I don't remember if we did this three days in a row until the interviews finally started, but I think that's how long it took. I was very impressed. The excitement was building. My heart was literally blossoming out the top of my head when the time finally came to line up at the steps leading to the Prajna porch. There were kasung and MI's and translators. The guy ahead of me was very well known to everyone. The son of someone close to Rinpoche. Everyone talked to him. I felt lonely, but it didn't matter. The bonding and sense of quiet that had built up over the days just made everything feel like frosting. When I did get to mount the stairs and turn the corner, the porch seemed to stretch out for an endless distance, like the runway in a modeling contest. There was Rinpoche, sitting at a small table at the far end, wearing a pith helmet. His gaze held me as I moved toward him and I felt remarkably uplifted. Not nervous at all, but extremely aware. I arrived at the table and he continued looking at me over the top of his glasses. The feeling was one of great humour. I felt it rise up in my chest. I had a great sense of meeting, like we had shared a great big joke. Then he said a few words to the translators, there was a laugh and someone told me how to leave the area. I bowed, left the porch from a closer stairway, and walked back to the shrine tent along a path glowing with fallen leaves, crying all the way. It was the last refuge name he gave. All the other students were sent back without interviews and he left a few days later for Halifax.
Prajna
by Jacquie Bell
For most people, their experience of Prajna involves service to the Sakyong. For Tom and myself, it was our first home after returning to Colorado following the '76 Seminary. When I was asked to be a co-director of RMDC (along with Larry Mermelstein), my only request was to be able to live in Prajna as it had electricity and was reasonably close to the office and the kitchen and shrine room.
At that time when one entered Prajna (and there was only one entryway), the kitchen area was just to the left and there was one bedroom off to the right; a few feet beyond that was a door to a second bedroom. That level continued past the kitchen area to a space about 10'x5'. There was another level (a sunken living room) which was two steps below and could be viewed from the kitchen area. The wood stove was in that area, and there were several windows.
I was pregnant when we moved into Prajna, and our son, Wilson, was born prematurely in April of the following year. When we brought him home from the hospital, we really appreciated the electricity as we had an electric urn for hot water. Wilson only weighed 4.5 pounds when we brought him home at 3.5 weeks old, and it was fortunate for us that it took him longer than usual to be able to sit up and get interested in playing with toys. We set up a play pen in the "upper living room" and he was quite content there. We moved back to Boulder when Wilson was ten months old, and, fortunately, he hadn't started crawling yet. My fear had been that he would start crawling and fall from the upper living room to the lower part, or else come into contact with the wood stove.
Calligraphies on the deck
by Clarke Warren
I remember being at Prajna for the Vidyadhara's executing calligraphies of names for vows one summer during Vajradhatu Seminary, 1985 or 1986, A few translators were there to assist in the process. His table was set up outside on the deck. He started in the bright sunny afternoon. I and others arrived under the blazing sun in daytime clothes. There were many names to perform calligraphies of, and the Vidyadhara executed each with steady, unhurried attention and care. He did not speak except for momentary practicalities. It was as though in slow motion. He just continued at the same pace for hours. Finally the sun went down, and it darkened. I was freezing, not having brought a coat or sweater. I remember sitting there vainly hoping he would finish up or speed up, so that I could get inside and warm up. At the same time, the thought of leaving or taking a break was inadmissible, as the environment was too potent. With lights, the Vidyadhara just continued on into the evening, not donning any warmer clothes. Maybe he took one break to pee. I remember being amazed that he could just go on and on like that, unperturbed and uninterrupted, paying no attention to time or weather. Then, when he finished the last calligraphy, he got up and walked inside in a flash. The day was done, and I walked back up to Vajra Campground under the cold stars, chilled and still amazed. The next day, the names found their recipients.
There is a photo of this session. The Vidyadhara is wearing a white or cream-colored shirt, Tibetan-style I think. His hair is ruffled and wild, and he is holding the thin brush in his hand. He is looking down at the calligraphy that he is executing. He looks like a Tibetan Beethoven composing a symphony!
What would really impress me is if Prajna were rebuilt just the way it was! Now that would be a genuine gesture of devotion!
Some memories of Prajna
by Kusung Dapön Noel McLellan
April 10, 2009
I spent a few summers living at Prajna when my dad was the director of RMDC. In those days it was the only building on the land with electricity. In the mornings my dad would take his machete and hack out the path while walking "downtown," and in the evening he would carry home big jugs of water.
Years later I did my first kusung shift with the Jampal Dradul, Sakyong Mipham Rinpoche, at Prajna. And over the next handful of years I spent summers on the kusung staff or as Court Commander there. It was a wonderful spot with a particular energetic quality, and its sudden vanishing has evoked a lot of feelings and memories. Many things happened there that were of personal significance to individuals. Tiny as it was, it was a place where many people met the Sakyong. It always seemed to me to be a part of the tent culture- the walls weren't solid barriers in a sense. The energy inside the house permeated the whole area.
There were some highlights. Many summers included bear visitations to Prajna and its campgrounds, usually at night. Once, the bear got into the kitchen. The Rusung came and shot at it with rubber bullets, which it didn't seem to mind too much, although it did leave. On another evening around 3am, a bear roamed freely about the Prajna campground, roaring and growling. Panic ensued, people banged on pots and pans and blew whistles. The bear didn't leave. It attacked a staff person's tent, shaking it and roaring. There were screams of terror. Some kasung started heading toward the tent in their pajamas, not sure what they planned to do. Suddenly it was over- the Garsung yelled, "Everyone relax! There are no bears here, only someone in a bear costume!" Flashlights were lit. The bear removed its head; it was Kevin Hoagland. From down the hill a ways, we could hear the Sakyong's unmistakable chuckle.
In 2004 the Sakyong wrote the Primordial Rigden ngondro at Prajna. Vajrayana Seminary was in session, and the Great Stupa was being empowered. I wrote in my journal at that time: ...continue
Remembering Service Shifts at Prajna
by Sarah Trefethen Whitehorn
During the summer of 1985 at Shambhala Mountain Centre, I had some Kasung service
shifts at Prajna. I remember as if it was yesterday, the feeling of walking along the path toward Prajna
in my kasung uniform, the dirt & dust beneath my feet, smelling the sweet pines with gentle breezes blowing.
Just the anticipation of encountering the presence of the Vidyadhara, my senses were awakened.
One morning I served breakfast on a tray to Rinpoche in his bedroom at Prajna.
He was wearing a short kimono, the bedroom shades were drawn, the room quite dark.
He looked at me, smiled, and said, "Maybe we should make our own spaghetti sauce". I said "Yes Sir",
bowed, and left the room. (It was later that I realized that he must have been referring to my family's Trefethen
wine business).
I remember meeting with other kusung in a small dressing room next to the Vidyadhara's bedroom. It was there that
all of his uniforms hung, his shoes & boots were lined up, and his pins and medals were placed on top of a dresser.
We would discuss the placement of metals on his uniforms.
The kusung and service staff waited at the back door of Prajna, anticipating his arrival (from periodic drives through SMC) in his white convertible jeep. I remember his wave and broad smile as he arrived.
He simply listens
by Sangyum Drukmo Tinkar, Valerie Lorig
It's summer, 1985, and Rinpoche is on the back porch of Prajna. It's a gorgeous day in the Colorado Rocky Mountains. Seminary is in full swing and life is good.
A visitor has come to see Rinpoche - a beautiful woman with a scarf on her bald head. She recently discovered she has cancer. With graceful dignity, she wept and told Rinpoche, a stranger, her deepest sorrows and longings - of her recent marriage to the love of her life, of her desire to practice, and her desire to live. He simply listens … really listens in the most ordinary way. I watch and hand out the occasional tissue, heartbroken.
After she leaves Rinpoche turns to me, sensing how much I wanted do something, anything, to help alleviate the suffering this elegant woman is facing. In the sweetest voice he says: "I wanted to ask her to come and stay with our community... but I didn't think it would be helpful."
Let's Go Visit the Rigdens
by Sangyum Drukmo Tinkar, Valerie Lorig
One evening at Prajna in 1985, Rinpoche said: "Sweetie, tonight we are going to go visit the Rigdens."
As far as I knew the Rigdens didn't live in Colorado, in fact they weren't even human. They were ancestral wisdom holders who guided Rinpoche, and helped him reveal the Shambhala teachings.
Curious I asked: "Where do they live?"
"Somewhere in outer Mongolia" he replied.
When I saw Rinpoche the next day he commented with a sense of urgency: "Sweetie, I went there and I waited for you and you didn't show up!"
I tried to find out what happened that night in the land of the Rigdens but his lips were firmly sealed.
Gathering the Troops
by Sangyum Drukmo Tinkar, Valerie Lorig
Trungpa Rinpoche had many visions and dreams. Some of those took place in a small rustic cabin called Prajna. A modest dwelling, Prajna was his residence whenever he taught at Shambhala Mountain Center. In the summer of 1986, I visited him there. This would be his last summer at Prajna. He moved to Nova Scotia in September of '86, where he died less than a year later.
The familiar drive from Boulder to SMC took on a magical air the closer I got to Prajna. Always, there was anticipation upon entering this crazy wisdom master's world, as raw reality was the norm, unlike the rest of my life.
Usually I greeted him in his brocade chair in the small living room, but this time he was in the bedroom with the shades drawn and the room dark - a stark contrast to the brilliant blue Colorado sky outside. Upon entering I noticed the mood was different. He didn't look at me, but was speaking. His soft breathy voice was describing a battle. As I sat in the dark room he described horses and cavalry. He spoke of troops traveling in mass. He said he would bring his dapons and ministers. He was gathering the kusung and the kasang and then he said: I will bring the Sangyum, yes I will bring the Sangyum too. When he mentioned the word Sangyum, fear streamed through my body. An apprehensive reaction "but I don't want to go to war," pulsed through my mind. It all seemed so real and unreal at the same time.
Like the warrior-king, Gesar of Ling, with his troops and kadös marching in formation, Rinpoche was the general, we were his students, and we were enlisted. Battling the setting sun is not a task for the faint of heart.
Ki Ki So So to the place called Prajna!
If you have a story about Prajna--a recollection of an important event, a personal encounter, photographs, etc--please post it here by sending an email to
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