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::journal::
	in the presence of buddha	06.17.01
	When I heard that the Dalai Lama was going to be in town, I immediately bought my ticket online to see him. His programmed appearance at the Shoreline Amphitheatre was almost sold out but I was lucky enough to get a hold of a ticket to his Sunday show, his last day of a five day conference. This made me think. The Dalai Lama is a rock star. Think about it. He sold out as quickly as Santana or one of those boy bands. He has his own movement and his own groupies. He is a pop icon. He is to mainstream, which makes me believe that he will come out with a hip-hop album. Even though I felt privileged to attend and be in the presence of His Holiness I felt cheap, like someone that solicited sex from a hooker. Who pays for spirituality? Who charges for its exchange? The price of admission was forty-five dollars, about the price of a rock concert. Forty-five dollars is within the reach of many of the Silicon Valley area techies but still beyond the reach of the people in general. Forty-five dollars plus the service fee for the ticket, ten dollars for parking. All you need is concession and souvenir stands. Oh, they had that. What was needed was a guy going down the aisles yelling out 'peanuts!' It's nuts! It becomes a mass spectator sport, in which promoters and ticket agents take a bit of the spirit out of spirituality. I come from a tradition in which the inner walls of a church are a sanctuary and always open even to the outlaw or desperado. I felt that no one could charge a cover charge on spirituality. This made me feel that Tibet won't ever be free. Tibet will be sold. Imagine Tibet as a capitalist flower child. Tibet will be sold in trendy fashionable stores in Santa Cruz, Berkley, in Venice Beach. Tibet will be sold as prayer flags, small laughing Buddha, and other keepsakes. The event was to begin at nine am on Sunday but the doors where to open at seven thirty in the morning. I wanted to get there as soon as the doors where open. I wanted to immerse myself in whole event but because of the party the previous night I was there about fifteen minutes before the event was schedule to start. Even at forty-five dollar tickets I had the cheap seats. Well, in truth it was the cheap lawn. The Shoreline Amphitheatre has shaded seats up front, near the stage, but in the back you just sit in the green of the grass. So there I was in the corral that they call the lawn section fifteen minutes before the event starts. I looked for a spot and herded myself close as possible without breaking out of my pen in which I had bought myself into. The grass was wet with morning dew. I had not brought a lawn chair or anything to sit on save my backpack, which I use to carry my notebook and a bottle of water. A nice crowd had gathered. Most of them seem hippish to me. I think to myself that they must have come down from the seventies, or maybe down from Berkley or up from Santa Cruz. At about five minutes after nine, the monks that where peacefully seated onstage began to sing in a voice that seemed as if it emitted and received sound at the same time. I felt them transfer their soul in their voice. I wondered if they where coming out with a CD soon. It was beautiful and I found myself trying to emulate their sounds in my coarse voice. The monks where all dress in what my sight recognized as orange and red, vivid enough to enter the mind of the observer and marinate it with instant memories. After sometime the monks stopped the chanting and the crowd began to applauded and cheer. Then I saw for the first time, with my own eyes and not those of another, the frailty of His Holiness. He seemed old yet lively and cheerful. He seemed small yet enduring and noble. After he had greeted the audience and had sat down, he began his three-hour discourse. As he spoke he swayed from side to side while he was sat in the lotus position. He's garment covered him completely save his head and his right arm. The Dalai Lama would read from pieces of paper the size and shape of time cards, those that are clocked in. He read in his native language and a translator would give English meaning to Tibetan wisdom. At the end, while wrapping up his talk, he said 'but my knowledge is limited.' Many people in the crowd laughed and chuckled at this remark. I thought it amusing that people thought this was a joke because I saw it as true wisdom. At the end an accounting of the success of the event was given. The money raised from the five-day event was said would be donated for the benefit of the Buddhist community locally and abroad. For example, a seventy-five thousand dollars would be given to build a monastery and another seventy-five thousand to build a nunnery in Mongolia. So I felt that the price of admission was a price well paid. But I also felt that enlightenment is not cheap and it cannot be sold, it must be earned. Here I give a list of keywords that I heard, or read, and that stuck in mind while at this event: Buddha, enlightenment, long life, empowerment, monk, realization, altruism, emptiness, wisdom, heart, dodhi dharma, bodhi tree, fe. Resource: Tibet House Medicine Buddha

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