Karma Knows
A monk from eastern Bhutan answers the hardest question with three words.
I just wanted to record a podcast. At least, that's what I tell myself.
And somehow, I ended up attending a 20-day teaching on Mahamudra, the great seal, at Tergar Osel Ling above Kathmandu. Three thousand people, including more than a thousand monks from Tibet, Bhutan, Nepal, India, Thailand, Germany, Israel and across the world. On the first day, I was curious. By the second, incredulous. And after three days, I extended my visa and decided to stay.
The monk I came for is Pema Wangyel. We met in Manang, while I was hiking the Annapurna Trail, and he was doing a pilgrimage to follow the footsteps of Milarepa. He grew up in the eastern part of Bhutan.
“It’s very remote,” he says, “but there people always used to visit the monastery, and the monastery used to help the community.”
He became a monk at 17, although he admits he was only '70 to 80 percent' sure of his decision.
Between teaching sessions at the monastery, I spend time with the monks. And honestly, it’s like hanging out with bros. Nothing enlightened about it. But between the lines, beyond the spoken words a peaceful quality shimmers. No one makes jokes at anyone else’s expense, only at their own. Instead, they support each other and simply enjoy spending time together. When I ask the monks what their names mean, they explain. Pema: lotus, the one who walks through the dark and the dirty without being stained.
My father died here, in Kathmandu, ten years ago. My third given name is Chimed. Here in Nepal it means immortal.
Pema and I record our conversation on a break day in the monastery, overlooking the loud, overcrowded city. He is 36.
“At the age of 36 somebody achieves so many things,” he says. “Somebody becomes the president of the country. Somebody becomes the superstar of Hollywood and Bollywood.” Then he turns it on himself: “When somebody is inspiring thousands of people, millions of people, what am I doing?”
We talk about being a monk, about being human, about why he is a monk. A homeless man approaches and asks for money to buy food, and I do not know whether the monk gives him something because I am there or because it is part of his identity.
When I ask him about it, he says that this is actually a factor. He does not like giving when many people are watching, because then people think he is only doing it to fulfill his image as a monk in public. I ask him whether it is not more important to help than to prioritize what other people might think. And he says, of course, but he is also only human, and sometimes the thoughts are simply stronger.
"You meditate for twenty years and have been a monk for twenty years, and still this is a topic for you?," I asked.
And he says yes. That is why he learns. That is why he wants to grow. He says Buddha teaches that you should help everyone if they ask you for help. And if you cannot help, then at least pray. That you can always do. Whether the homeless man used the money for food, for drugs, or for something else is not your responsibility to check. That is not part of helping. Only through kindness, through unconditional compassion, can you soften and illuminate the darkest and most hardened hearts.
"If we compare with someone who is already better than us, it makes us a better version of ourselves. But if we keep on comparing to someone who is always better, it will also make us sad.”
When I ask him about Karma, he replies “If you have a single shot of Americano it has less impact, if you have a double shot of Americano it has longer impact.”
Every action, every thought creates karma. And karma, he says, doesn’t mean the bad thing. It's just a law of nature.
So I ask him about my own life. If whatever I did in my previous lives caused my father to die early, is this now karma for me, that I don’t get to experience having a father?
“I don’t know,” Pema says. “Who knows?” I ask. “Karma knows.”
He became a monk precisely to focus on the theories and practices, he explains. Monks are pioneers of altruistic humanity, researching how to refine human existence, while people in daily life endure pain, suffering, frustration, hunger, greed and mental chaos.
I have rarely felt such peace as I did among the monks there. Buddhism has a subtle, inconspicuous, quiet power. This conversation is just a fraction, the melting tip of an iceberg that cannot easily be put into words.
This article was contributed by Robin Leo Hoffmann, the founder and host of Still Human – Conversations for a Changing World. Robin records long-form conversations on the road, with “seekers, builders, travelers, creatives and outsiders.”
The full conversation with Pema Wangel is an episode of the podcast Still Human, on YouTube, Spotify and every podcast platform.
