interview

Andrew Cohen: In general, women don't speak with the kind of confidence and authority about enlightenment and the spiritual path that you do. In our last issue, on self-mastery, we spoke with developmental psychologist Beverly Slade about how, in our culture, women often shy away from publicly demonstrating their own competence and authority. She said, "They find that people are threatened by their ability and may want to avoid them. Given women's position in the culture at large, they probably regularly face people who are trying to undermine them, because people are threatened by competent women." What has your experience been? Do you find that because you're a woman who has been recognized as a great teacher and who also speaks with unusual confidence and authority, people are threatened because of that?

Jetsunma Ahkön Lhamo: My experience with the gender question has been pretty interesting. When I was first recognized, upon performing the actual crowning ceremony, His Holiness Penor Rinpoche said, "Many Westerners have been wondering: 'Where are the women in Tibetan Buddhism?' Now I've answered their questions." And at that time he said something that was very interesting and that helped to explain why we don't see women conventionally being recognized as heads of monasteries. In Tibet, he said, normally the dakinis [female enlightened beings] would often stay in retreat or they would have a small, select group of students and would tend to be isolated off by themselves, whereas the men would stay and run the monasteries. So the women's lineages were not followed as well as the men's. And many of these women didn't even write or read; they had oral traditions. So they weren't literate in that sense, but they were considered very high tantric masters.

Now when I was recognized and enthroned, my experience was that the traditional monks had a kind of squeamishness or almost discomfort around me. When I went to the monastery in India, His Holiness did an amazing, wonderful offering ceremony. He introduced me to all of the monks and said, "This is the cofounder of our lineage. She's come back." And all the monks then came up and offered prayer scarves. And it was interesting; some of the monks had this amazing surrender because here was this dakini and that was that. But the other monks actually felt a little embarrassed, not accustomed to being around women, not sure how to act. Many of them stumbled over their words and almost walked up backwards so that you wouldn't know whether they were coming or going. And having asked other teachers about it, I found out it's just fairly rare for a woman to be held up in that way.

But in terms of how Americans and other Westerners acted—actually, His Holiness once said to me: "Because I have recognized you and I have the right and the responsibility to do so, there will never be any conflict with any Tibetan teacher or practitioner who knows who I am. But," he said, "actually, your own kind, the Westerners, will probably crucify you."

AC: Has that been your experience?

JAL: I've had both.

AC: Is it because you're a woman?

JAL: I think so. When I was first discovered, I was a very Western woman, as I still am now. I used to paint my nails, I had makeup on—which I don't do anymore—I had all these unusual characteristics that one doesn't associate with a teacher. And so there was a lot of criticism questioning whether I was spiritual or worldly. And at first I tried to please everyone. I tried to ascertain what the expectations were for me. I was kind of naïve in that way, just wondering what it was that people wanted in a spiritual teacher. And I discovered that people had problems with women who were "womanly," who were very feminine in their presentation. They also had problems with the fact that I wasn't a nun, that I was married.

AC: But Nyingma [the oldest school of Tibetan Buddhism] lamas have often been married. It's not against the rules.

JAL: Male Nyingma lamas. It's easier to think of married male lamas than it is to think of married female lamas, for some reason.

AC: And haven't many great dakinis been described as being ravishingly beautiful and also sexually attractive?

JAL: Tara [a revered Tibetan deity] herself is seen with beautiful adornment. And she has taken a vow that said, "When I appear in the world, I will appear in this way so that beings can understand that all can approach the dharma. And I will always appear as a woman." So there's definitely precedent for that, but when it comes down to the nuts and bolts, it's another matter.

AC: It seems, from what I've read, that from the very beginning of your teaching career you have never pretended to be other than who you are. You said, "This is who I am," and you were always unapologetic about it. And when Penor Rinpoche recognized you, that was part of the package; everything was really on the table.

JAL: Yes, exactly. It was really on the table, and it was very unusual. During the enthronement ceremony, His Holiness even allowed news stations to come in and film it. He said, "This has never happened before. And the reason why I've done this is that you were born as a Westerner, as a woman. Obviously that's where your mission lies." In the beginning I asked my teachers what they thought I should do—how I should change or what should happen. And they suggested that I wear dharma clothing such as chubas [Tibetan dresses] and things like that, which I usually do when I'm teaching. But what I found was that there's no point in not being natural. There's no point in faking yourself and becoming something else because then you're just allowing discursive thought or conceptualization to basically run your life. What I came to eventually is that this is my job. My job is not to be a traditional Tibetan teacher. If that was my job, I would have come as a traditional Tibetan. I feel that my job is to be a bridge between Easterners and Westerners. I'm very good at translating abstract ideas, and I feel that the reason why I appear in the way I do is that other women and men who are Westerners and have no plans to change their culture or their cultural affiliation need to know that it's possible for them also.

And personally I have no attraction to the Tibetan culture. All of the other Western Tibetan teachers I know are crazy about it. They all dress up in dharma duds and they walk the company walk and talk the company talk. But I really don't. And I don't feel sorry about that. I think that's for Easterners.

AC: How does Penor Rinpoche feel about that? Does he respect your independence and your interest in bringing the Buddha-dharma to the West in a way that is as free from cultural overlays as possible?

JAL: Well, at first he sort of suggested that I become more traditional. He said, "Not many dharma teachers paint their nails red; maybe you should go for pink or something like that." He tried to modify a little bit. Then after a while I said, "Well, Rinpoche, you know, I'm an Italian American. This is how my people dress. I would feel stupid not being like this. This is my way." And he absolutely understood it.

AC: To me, that brings up an interesting question and the question is: What is the relationship between enlightened mind and expressions of gender? What's the relationship between emptiness, or freedom from all notions of self, and culturally prescribed norms for the expression of masculinity and femininity? Some teachers of enlightenment have stressed the need to abandon any identification with self-image. For example, there are men and women monastics who shave their heads and abandon all worldly possessions in order to leave behind attachment to culturally prescribed images of masculinity and femininity. And then there are others like yourself or the great J. Krishnamurti, who was known for giving a great deal of attention to maintaining his always elegant appearance. I honestly think this is a very intriguing question. What is the relationship between inner freedom and the desire to express one's masculinity or femininity in a conventional yet unselfconscious way? What's the relationship between emptiness and beautiful nails? Does the path to enlightenment, which is freedom from all notions of self, ultimately demand that we all unconditionally abandon any attachment to gender and care for our appearance, or is there room in enlightenment for a demonstration of masculinity and femininity that expresses beauty and dignity?

JAL: I like your use of the word "room." I like to think that the path to enlightenment is a bit more spacious than it is confined by a lot of absolutely this's and absolutely that's. Fundamentally, I feel that when bodhisattvas [those dedicated to the attainment of enlightenment for the benefit of all beings] come into the world to do a job, they do it in the best way that they can. I think they appear in a way that is not foreign, a way that speaks to us. If the bodhisattva comes to teach Westerners, then it would be appropriate to appear as a Westerner. If the bodhisattva comes to teach Easterners, then it would be appropriate to appear as an Easterner. I could never say that there's a direct relationship between lipstick and emptiness, but I could never say that there is no relationship between lipstick and emptiness.

AC: What do you think the relationship is, though?

JAL: I'd have to say that the relationship is. There is just no other way to look at it.

AC: It's an intriguing question because if someone was established in the enlightened mind or a liberated view, they would be, at least theoretically or ideally, free from any and all attachment to notions of self. So then the question is: What does that look like? Obviously there are some very rigid ideas that have come to us from the East.

JAL: I can say that a person who dresses up as a renunciate, who doesn't wear makeup and wears robes, can sometimes actually be in a position of increasing the strength of their ego because they are so virtuous and are so convinced of it. And the same thing can happen when a person dresses up in clothes "to die for." So I hold the whole appearance issue kind of lightly. I feel like I'm not grabbing on to it in one way or the other. For me, there would be a level of discomfort if I were to radically change the way I dressed. The women I grew up with wore hoop earrings. They all wore lipstick. They had a 'do. For me to not do that seems more effortful and more concerned with sticking to a rigid code. It seems like putting on some sort of elaborate disguise. To me it seems to be easier, better, more natural to dress the way I came and to just be the way I am.

AC: What if a man or a woman came to you and asked to be your student and, after observing them over a period of time, it became apparent to you—let's say, for example, it was a woman—that they seemed to be too invested in their appearance, in the way that they dressed, in the way that they moved, in the way that they walked and talked, and they seemed to express an overidentification with their own feminine nature. Would you tell them to question it?

JAL: If I saw that there was too much ego clinging and too much self-absorption, sure, I would always address that. I wouldn't indicate to them how they should dress. Except in one case. Actually, one of my nuns, before she became a nun, was a really sharp dresser. She was one of those "outfit" persons. She always looked really sharp and wore all the cool things. And even after she became a nun, her shirt over her shantab [robe] would always match her socks. And I did talk about identity issues with her. She was the only person I've ever told how to dress. She's very beautiful, very exotic-looking, and she realized that most of the suffering in her life was because of her identification with her looks and her sexuality and so forth. And so eventually it came to the point where she decided to become a nun.

AC: She came to that decision on her own? You didn't encourage her?

JAL: Well, I encourage by my high esteem for the ordained. I have tremendous esteem for them. And even my teachers have said, "How is it that you're a laywoman and yet so many of your students go for ordination?" I really think it's because I hold monks and nuns in such high esteem. I feel that, however I appear, in my heart I'm a nun.

AC: A renunciate.

JAL: A renunciate. A nun. Yes, in my heart.

AC: And a definition of that would be?

JAL: A definition of that would be someone who is so completely bound to the spiritual expression that there really isn't much else going on. So, in "pure view," you could say that was an ordained person.

AC: Do you think that it's possible for a human being to come to a point in their spiritual evolution where they're finally freed from any fixation on or attachment to their gender identity while at the same time not in any way avoiding or denying the fact of their maleness or their femaleness?

JAL: Absolutely. I feel that as we move farther in our practice and we come to the point where we awaken to the natural state, in that natural state, by definition, there is no gender. There is no bias whatsoever. For instance, supposing that I had come to that state—now I'm still a woman and I still dress like one, but the whole question of gender identity doesn't seem like an issue that should be taken up. It simply is what it is. It has no particular emphasis. But you wouldn't fight against it either.

AC: How does gender identity express itself in someone who's no longer particularly identified with the fact of their gender?

JAL: I think it expresses itself naturally for the world we live in. I feel that bodhisattvas who are in the state where they're no longer identified take on the demeanor and the ideas and concepts of the society that they come to. And since in this society it is natural to identify with either one gender or the other, I believe that's why it happens. In a sense, a bodhisattva, an awakening being, would be like somebody who doesn't smoke going into a room full of smokers. They come out smelling like it, and they even breathe a little bit of it, but they don't themselves have that habit.

AC: This is something that personally intrigues me a lot. What does it mean to be a man? What does it mean to be a woman? Most of the ideas that we have about who we are in relationship to gender are culturally imposed, so it's a big question. What does it mean to be a liberated human being, and what does liberation have to do with the expression of gender? So much of our identification with gender, whether we're male or female, has to do with the fact that we're always living up to culturally imposed shoulds—"Because I'm a woman, I should be a particular way," "Because I'm a man, I should be a particular way"—and most of the time, this so inhibits the individual that they really have no idea what the natural expression of their own gender would be. So, to me, it would seem that an expression of gender that is liberated would have to be entirely free from this kind of self-consciousness.

JAL: I agree with you completely. And peculiar questions like, "Should I be more male? Should I be more female? Should I dress up? Should I dress down?" I think, to be perfectly frank, are questions that have to do with the tightness of our minds and our conceptual proliferation—that habitual tendency to constantly compare everything and make notes and put things in boxes. That quality of mind, that tightness of mind, is not synonymous with liberation. It is preliberation, so all of those ideas are also preliberation. I think with liberation comes a certain spaciousness, a certain acceptance, a certain floatingness—without meaning spaced out—a certain ease of expression. Everything is looser and more spacious. Our habitual tendencies are not so automatic, so tight and so kicked in that we have to identify with something!

AC: You're a teacher of the Buddha-dharma. There is much to suggest that the Buddha felt that women were spiritually inferior to men. In the Pali Canon [a scriptural record of the Buddha's early teachings], the Buddha is reported to have said, "Ananda, if women had not obtained the Going Forth from the house life into homelessness in the Law and Discipline declared by the Perfect One [acceptance into the Buddha's monastic order], the Holy Life would have lasted long, the Holy Life would have lasted a thousand years. But now, since women have obtained it, the Holy Life will last only five hundred years. Just as when the blight called gray mildew falls on a field of ripening rice, that field of ripening rice does not last long, so too, in the Law and Discipline in which women obtain the Going Forth, the Holy Life does not last long." It is also traditionally held that in the monastic community that formed around the Buddha, the most newly ordained male novice monk was to sit in a superior position to the most senior female nun. This seems to suggest that women definitely had a second-class role. Now Buddhism is becoming more and more popular in the time that we're living in, and more and more women are being attracted to the Buddhist path for many good reasons. But personally, what I've always found interesting is that often this particular question of the Buddha's bias or apparent bias—we can't really know for sure—is something that many women never really deal with. Because the Buddha has been called the "Perfect One," his enlightenment was supposed to be complete and perfected. And the point is, if one such as he had such strong notions of gender bias, then it seems that we would have to conclude that either his understanding or his realization wasn't perfect, or there was something true about what he was saying and we needed to come to terms with it. How do you feel about this statement?

JAL: Well, my understanding—and this is something that I have discussed with some of my teachers and with khenpos [Tibetan scholars]—is that the Buddha taught in stages. Lord Buddha taught perfectly and appropriately for the context that he was in. And to take a teaching out of its original context and isolate it may be inappropriate. At that time, there were cultural realities that were practically insurmountable. The Buddha was dealing with many caste structures, not only gender. He was accepting into his ranks untouchables—telling Indians that untouchables could be touched. There were many, many issues happening in his time that he was really right against. And the gender issue was one of them. Back then in India, women were still getting burned with their husbands when their husbands died. The prejudice was there; it was predisposed. The cultural difference between men and women was so extreme that if it were automatically the case that women were put in the same position as men, I don't think it would have been allowed. I don't think it would have been okay. I think that things had to happen in a progressive, stage-by-stage way. Later on, through the evolution of the path, Buddhism developed all the way up to the tantric and Vajrayana elements in which males and females were exactly equal.

AC: Okay, but the only thing is, if it's true that the Buddha actually said this, then apparently he felt that if he allowed women into the sangha [monastic community], what he was trying to do was going to be severely impacted for the worse. Because according to the canon he literally said, "My teaching won't last a thousand years. It will last only half as long." Now he did it anyway, so obviously he cared more about the liberation of women than about whatever detrimental effect he felt that women were going to have. But if the canon is correct, then I think we still have to come to terms with this dilemma: Either he was right that women are spiritually inferior or he had a wrong view.

JAL: No, I don't think either one is correct. I feel that he was speaking to the time. When the Buddha appears on the earth in whatever form, it's like the medicine that's given as an antidote to whatever suffering is there. And I feel that was absolutely pure, absolutely correct at that time. It was meant to grow and engage the way that it did. And I think the view has grown and developed and we've come to understand it better. I don't think he was mistaken and I don't think he held women as inferior. I think his enlightenment was perfect.