After hours of reading about Tibet, delving into knowledge about Dharma, Karma, meditation, transcendence, and reincarnation, I discovered the monks and the awe-inspiring way in which the Dalai Lama is revered by his peers, even as a child. I read extensively about the majestic mountains of Lhasa, the purifying teas, the dichotomy between good and evil, the struggle of the soul against the tyranny of the body, the drums and mantras, the "Tibetan Book of the Dead," and even about the best way to breathe, sleep, and wake up.
As a child, I read with fascination the works of Lobsang Rampa, such as "The Third Eye," "The Hermit," and "The Tibetan Sage." I was deeply influenced, even attempting out-of-body experiences with the teachings of the monks and the Dalai Lama. Thus, I came across Martin Scorsese's film "Kundun," seeking to understand how the renowned director could capture the indescribable inner movement.
Throughout life, I listened to Sadhanas in search of liberation, applauded the Dalai Lama, and demonized the Chinese. I empathized with the resistance of the Tibetan people and their leader, was moved by the spiritual relationship between monks and disciples. I read all the news about the Tibetan community in India, absorbing the messages and teachings of the chosen one. I can discourse backward about Tibetan schools, the importance of morality in contrast to Western amorality, the unwavering ethics in the face of the materialistic madness of our time. I was touched by the worship of wisdom and respect for the elderly.
I wanted to know more about the eight Tibetan auspicious symbols, these auspicious elements. The lotus flower, the endless knot, the treasure vase, and so many others, all considered paths to Enlightenment. Throughout my life, I fervently believed that the Dalai Lama was an enlightened being, the ultimate symbol of a transcendent power that impelled us to be better, more capable, more respectful of others, more resilient against evil, and more optimistic about our passage here. I never knew any other Dalai Lama, only this one, the 14th in line. The great "ocean of wisdom," the literal translation of his name, symbolizing a lineage of reincarnates who return to Earth to enlighten us about the meaning of humanity.
However, after this entire journey, I found myself facing an abyss. Disillusionment is even greater when our illusions are true. I was willing to bet everything on this man, even though I am not a Buddhist, let alone a Tibetan Buddhist. I was willing to take a risk, and I ended up getting burned. Asking a child to lick his tongue? Kissing him on the mouth and wanting more? And worst of all, reading that this episode is being justified by defenders as an innocent joke, without malice, makes my insides churn even more.
"To suck" the tongue? So much wisdom, meditation, incense, spirituality, prayers, and in the end, the Dalai Lama is playful. This discovery saddened me, surprised me, and left me disheartened. Perhaps the world is truly mad.
In this text, I share my profound disillusionment upon discovering that my idealizations of the Dalai Lama have been shattered. I question the illusions I built around his figure and the reality that has been revealed to me. This experience has made me reflect on human nature, the contradictions present even in highly respected figures, and the possibility that the world may be going through a moment of imbalance.