This quote is widely attributed to Chögyam Trungpa Rinpoche: > The bad news is, you’re falling through the air, nothing to hang on > to, no parachute. The good news is, there’s no ground. Among the many instances on the web, the only pointer to an actual citation of Trungpa Rinpoche's work I can find is on page 239 of *Sacred Groundlessness: Deepening the Ethics of Mindfulness in the Midst of Global Crisis* by Lama Karma, chapter 13 of *Handbook of Ethical Foundations of Mindfulness*, edited by Stanley, Purser and Singh. That pageless citation, however, is to *The collected works of Chögyam Trungpa (Vol. 8)* and seems to be incorrect. I have that book in electronic form, and searches on numerous words and phrases from the quote (ground, parachute, news, etc) do not turn up the quote or anything close. That's the only work of Trungpa Rinpoche cited in that chapter. The only other of his work in the edited volume is his very popular *Cutting through Spiritual Materialism*, and the quote is not in that either. **My question -- Can anybody identify a work or teaching by Trungpa Rinpoche that contains that quote or something like it, or say with some assurance that he did not actually say or write it. And if it's not his, who did say it?**

I've recently begun reading the new book Cynicism and Magic - Intelligence & Intuition on the Buddhist Path by Chogyam Trungpa. This is my first book by this renowned teacher. In Chapter 3 of this book I read an explanation of the five skandhas I've never seen before. The explanation mesmerized as it stirred memories of a profound experience long ago in my past. After reading this chapter I was struck by the seeming similarity to an answer I vaguely remembered reading on this site about dependent origination. With a little bit of search of the site and remembering it came from our Andriy - I've found it. This answer on D.O. (dependent origination) resonated deeply with me at the time although I was not really sure why. Here is a small excerpt from Chapter 3, page 25-28 of the book: > The starting point for the skandhas is bewilderment. We are completely > bewildered. Not in the sense of stupidity or ignorance, but we are > bewildered in the sense of not having anything to lay our hands on. > Everybody possesses this bewilderment. Whether you call it emptiness, > openness, or groundlessness, it is always there. > > THE FIRST SKANDHA: FORM > > At some point, we try to make a home out of this situation. We would > like to build a secure home out of our bewilderment. We grope all over > the place, not having such a thing as ourselves. Though there *is* a > sense of flow, we make that flow itself an entity, a false entity. > That constant groping creates "you" and "other." A sense of duality, a > sense of separateness develops, which is a false notion. But that > falsity seems to be much more secure than the truth, which has no > substance and which we find somewhat overpowering. We don't want to > face reality -- it's too brilliant, too dazzling, too hot, too cold. > We would like to compromise and make ourselves comfortable. > > You have no idea whether you have the right to do this or not, because > nobody's judging, and that groping process, trying to find a base of > some kind, creates a further sense of being lost. You begin to realize > that you have to provide your own ground, your own seat, your own rug, > your own chair, your own table, your own ceiling, and your own walls. > All kinds of things have to be created, otherwise there isn't anything > at all. That kind of basic panic, or perhaps you could call it basic > creativity, is the origin of the first skandha, what's known as the > skandha of form. You made everything out of nothing. There is a > dichotomy there: you haven't made it, but you have made it, somehow. > You made false out of true. > > According to Buddha's teaching, this first experience of bewilderment > is called "basic bewilderment." It is basic to everything; it's a > constant experience in everyday life. It takes place in every > conversation, between activities, and during activities. Our life is > governed by this false notion of something that we are holding on to. > Traditionally this basic bewilderment is known as *avidya.* *Vidya* in > Sanskrit means "inner cognitive mind functioning," and the *a* at the > beginning means "non," so *avidya* means "ignorance." Avidya is not > cognition in the ordinary sense of the consciousness that functions in > daily life; it is the subconscious mind that has a sense of > double-ness, two-ness and duality. It has a sense of wholesomeness, a > sense of *being.* "I exist because the other exists. Therefore, I > could create my realm and have a sense of being." That experience also > becomes, ironically, very powerfully joyful to a lot of people. We say, > "Phew, we made it. We found it." We found what? We found *it.* There > is *something,* at least there is *something.* What is it? "I don't > know, but nevertheless there is something happening. Isn't that great? > Something is taking place." It is extremely hopeful. It's worth > celebrating. But at this point we are celebrating avidya. We are > celebrating that we are completely stupid. > > And then stupidity replaces bewilderment. Of course, it is really > comfortable to be stupid. You could play dumb, as if nothing is > happening around you, as if everything's okay. You never look around > and you never ask questions. Questions such as "How?" "Why?" "When?" > "Where?" and "What?" are regarded as very dangerous to utter. We > simply say, "is," "am," and "I am." "I," if you just say it by itself, > feels somewhat shaky, unless you say "am," which qualifies the I-ness. > Then we need a further reference point and reassurance, so it becomes > "I am happy," or "I am sad," which qualifies the whole, stupid > statement. "I am happy," or "I am sad," or "I am such and such," is > the utterance of stupidity. > > That's the basic form that we have created, which isn't to say -- and > I would like to emphasize this -- that this situation was created > "once upon a time," that there was a "fall of man" and then everybody > was bad and confused. This experience, this situation, takes place > constantly in our everyday lives. The basis of our operation, and > activity, is bewilderment and stupidity. > > THE SECOND SKANDHA: FEELING > > From there, we develop the second stage of ego's development, which is > the skandha of feeling. You feel piggish, dumb and you are growing -- > now that you have created a solidified self. You have developed a big > head, a thick neck, and a swollen face. Your eyes are tiny, your mouth > can hardly move, and your ears are sinking in. You are almost a > cast-iron statue of "me" sitting there. You can't even turn your head > because your neck is stiff and swollen. You begin to feel that the > silence of the stupidity that you have created is somewhat suspicious. > There may be something wrong. You turn to look around, back and forth, > trying to develop some kind of feeling. From there, we grope around to > experience distinct feedback -- pleasurable, painful or neutral > feelings. It's like the traditional analogy of the pig exploring > piggery, trying to find food, trying to develop some kind of > discrimination. So if you come across a pebble, you reject it; if you > come across a piece of meat or fruit, you try to eat it up. It's a > very simple level of feeling, an animal or ape instinct. > > Maybe you have developed an eloquent or beautiful style, as if nothing > is wrong. You try to hide your clumsiness and try to avoid letting > anybody else see it. We usually try to be very smooth and genteel. > However, that sense of animal-ness or ape-ness is still there, and is > particularly evident when we begin to deal with the sharp edges of our > experience, which we usually ignore. The sharp edges of situations > challenge our stupidity, and present the potential of nonexistence, > nonego. You try to be graceful, but never quite succeed. You feel as > if someone is watching over your shoulder all the time. You are being > extremely clumsy, but at the same time, you are inquisitive. You want > to explore the world outside. You want to give and take at a very > simple level. This is feeling. I want to note a few points that I find unique about this presentation. Please let me know if you read this in the same way? 1. The emphasis on the fact what is described is a constant occurrence in every moment of life. Trungpa specifically emphasizes that he is not talking about a singular event, but rather "this situation, takes place constantly in our everyday lives." 2. In explaining form, Trungpa seems to be starting with the first link in D.O. of Avidya which he describes as basic bewilderment that comes about when primordial mind experiences a non-existent or groundless base. Groundless experience is described as overpowering and uncomfortable. This uncomfortable-ness gives rise to bewilderment. 3. The description of the second skandha really comes across to me vividly as a description of how a baby might see the world. The other impression I get is of someone very confused or high trying to disguise the fact and play off like they are fine. Like someone freaking out or paranoid on weed, but acting as if - or not wanting to admit it to themselves - that everything is fine. And now some questions... Is this presentation unique to Trungpa or can it be found in other dharma? Where can I find Trungpa laying out his presentation of D.O. explicitly? If you read the rest of the chapter he goes on to talk about the other skandhas and it all seems to me like a description of D.O. inline with Andriy's answer but he never mentions D.O. explicitly. Anyone else read this book yet? Any other impressions?

How is Shambhala Buddhism as founded by Chögyam Trungpa Rinpoche and continued by folks like Pema Chodron different from traditional Tantric Buddhism such as that practiced by the Dalai Lama? Does Shambhala rely on the same texts as Tibetan Buddhism?

How did Chogyam Trungpa Rinpoche justify drinking alcohol? How did his students justify his drinking? Is it possible an enlightened being could or would drink alcohol if they had been physically injured and had serious chronic pain? Like Rinpoche had chronic physical pain? What about strong opiate pain killers?

One book I like very much is *The Myth Of Freedom* by Chogyam Trungpa. Of particular interest is the section where he distinguishes the realms of existence as mental states and ways of being. I've yet to find this discussed elsewhere in any way that resonates. Everything I find merely talks about *Buddhism and psychology* and speaks about it in terms defined in the latter. Trungpa nourishes the metaphor and *generates a rich unanswerable question*. Other writings I've found prey on the metaphor and *regurgitate a definitive answer*. The former offers opening for insight; the latter suppresses thought. Does anyone know of anywhere else this subject is written upon with the type of creativity I've alluded to?

As well as being a preeminent teacher of Tibetan Buddhist, Chögyam Trungpa was notorious for his more extreme behaviour such as drinking, smoking, sleeping with students, crashing cars and so forth. While this seems unusual behaviour for an advanced Buddhist practioner I was told that senior figures in his lineage (Kagyu and Nyingma ) and were very comfortable with his actions. So how were his more controversial actions justified by others within his lineage? Is there a tradition within Tibetan Buddhism which encompasses seemingly unethical behaviour? Was there any precedence within his lineage for this kind of thing or was he just a very unusual character?

How would I know if I was suffering from spiritual materialism as detailed in Chögyam Trungpa's book Cutting Through Spiritual Materialism ? Would there be signs that I could recognise in myself and if so what would the signs be? Or is it something that is only evident to other people. Would I need to be told of my condition by a teacher or close friend?