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The Buddha from Brooklyn
In 1985, Catharine Burroughs was a Maryland housewife with two children—and two failed marriages behind her—running a New Age prayer group in her basement. Out of the blue, a monastery in India for which she had raised some money contacted Burroughs and asked her to host His Holiness Penor Rinpoche, one of the highest-ranking lamas of Tibetan Buddhism, on his first visit to America. After meeting Burroughs, and observing her and her followers for a period of five days, he told her that she was a "great, great bodhisattva," and already, unbeknownst to her, practicing Buddhism. Later, in India, he officially recognized this Jewish-Italian woman from Brooklyn as the reincarnation of a sixteenth-century Tibetan saint, making her the first American woman to be named a tulku, or reborn lama.
The Buddha from Brooklyn tells the complex and fascinating story of how Catharine Burroughs, now known as Jetsunma Ahkön Lhamo, embarked on a journey to build the largest Tibetan Buddhist center in America. With boundless enthusiasm but precious little formal training in Buddhist practices and traditions, Jetsunma and her students bought an estate in Poolesville, Maryland, on the outskirts of Washington, D.C., and founded Kunzang Palyul Choling (Fully Awakened Dharma Continent of Absolute Clear Light). Under Jetsunma's tutelage, the group memorized sacred texts and held all-night prayer vigils. They asked venerable Tibetan lamas to visit and give them "empowerments." Many took Buddhist vows and became monks and nuns. And as word of this remarkable place spread, others came to see the new lama for themselves and joined her community.
Martha Sherrill, a writer at The Washington Post, heard about Jetsunma in 1993. She visited the center and was charmed by both its charismatic lama, the only Western woman in the male-dominated hierarchy of Tibetan Buddhism, and by the monks and nuns (all Americans) living there. They seemed, for the most part, like a remarkably happy group of people whose lives had been transformed by this exotic, imported faith—and by Jetsunma. At the beginning of The Buddha from Brooklyn, as the group is breaking ground for a sacred monument called a stupa, Sherrill commences her own journey to discover for herself what makes this unlikely lama—who enjoys clothes shopping and manicures, Motown music and Star Trek reruns—such a magnetic spiritual leader. And as the story unfolds, so do the secrets of this seemingly idyllic sanctuary.
Compassionate and clear-eyed, Sherrill takes her readers on a breathtaking exploration inside the monastery at Poolesville, a place where idealistic but flawed human beings struggle with their devotion every day. She demystifies monastic life and Tibetan Buddhism, and amends the simplified view that most Americans have of this 2,500-year-old faith. Weaving together the stories of the believers into a narrative structure that is as moving and beautiful as the stupa they are building, Sherrill has created a brilliant work of investigative journalism that raises profound, provocative questions about religious faith and its price. The Buddha from Brooklyn is a monument to the miracles and failures that stem from the deepest human longings.
The Buddha from Brooklyn tells the complex and fascinating story of how Catharine Burroughs, now known as Jetsunma Ahkön Lhamo, embarked on a journey to build the largest Tibetan Buddhist center in America. With boundless enthusiasm but precious little formal training in Buddhist practices and traditions, Jetsunma and her students bought an estate in Poolesville, Maryland, on the outskirts of Washington, D.C., and founded Kunzang Palyul Choling (Fully Awakened Dharma Continent of Absolute Clear Light). Under Jetsunma's tutelage, the group memorized sacred texts and held all-night prayer vigils. They asked venerable Tibetan lamas to visit and give them "empowerments." Many took Buddhist vows and became monks and nuns. And as word of this remarkable place spread, others came to see the new lama for themselves and joined her community.
Martha Sherrill, a writer at The Washington Post, heard about Jetsunma in 1993. She visited the center and was charmed by both its charismatic lama, the only Western woman in the male-dominated hierarchy of Tibetan Buddhism, and by the monks and nuns (all Americans) living there. They seemed, for the most part, like a remarkably happy group of people whose lives had been transformed by this exotic, imported faith—and by Jetsunma. At the beginning of The Buddha from Brooklyn, as the group is breaking ground for a sacred monument called a stupa, Sherrill commences her own journey to discover for herself what makes this unlikely lama—who enjoys clothes shopping and manicures, Motown music and Star Trek reruns—such a magnetic spiritual leader. And as the story unfolds, so do the secrets of this seemingly idyllic sanctuary.
Compassionate and clear-eyed, Sherrill takes her readers on a breathtaking exploration inside the monastery at Poolesville, a place where idealistic but flawed human beings struggle with their devotion every day. She demystifies monastic life and Tibetan Buddhism, and amends the simplified view that most Americans have of this 2,500-year-old faith. Weaving together the stories of the believers into a narrative structure that is as moving and beautiful as the stupa they are building, Sherrill has created a brilliant work of investigative journalism that raises profound, provocative questions about religious faith and its price. The Buddha from Brooklyn is a monument to the miracles and failures that stem from the deepest human longings.
416 pages, Hardcover
First published April 3, 2000
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August 17, 2009
I'm Michelle Grissom, formerly Ani Dechen Drolma. I was one of the sources for The Buddha From Brooklyn and my story takes up a large part of the book. I have a great deal of responsibility for the contents, for which I'm sorry. I should never have participated.
Martha's an excellent author and journalist, but an author can only work with the facts that they're given, the way that they're given. I wish that I could reach every person who has read or heard of The Buddha From Brooklyn, or who has heard the slander I've spread through blogs and as Longchenpa on Wikipedia -- now helplessly replicated everywhere -- because I lied.
There are liars who make things up out of whole cloth. Those lies are easily discovered, easily defended against. Then there are liars who tell the truth selectively with a spin geared to the audience whom they get to know very well, as I got to know Martha. They make a whole truth out of two half truths and weave an entirely new picture embedded with bits of the truth, like glittering bits of broken glass. I am the second type of liar. A liar of this stripe has no sense of the truth. It is all simply fodder for the next story. Truth is multi-valent, isn't it? Multi-layered? Well, I've had no sense of the truth because I've had no self-honesty. From my lack of self-honesty came self-deception -- all stemming from protecting my pride. From self-deception I could convey a genuine sense of sincerity and sweetness. Believability, because I believed my own story, too. For the moment. There was always another layer to it. That's how I explained The Buddha From Brooklyn to myself. I thought I didn't gloss over or leave anything out. There were merely ... other layers.
Martha Sherrill caught me changing my story several times but she believed in my good intentions. As did I. A con artist has to con themselves first so they can mimic the right emotional facade to elicit the response they want, wrapping themselves around their audience like a snake.
It was almost impossible for Jetsunma and KPC to defend against this kind of lie because it was salted with the truth. Many of us have experienced this sort of lie from an ex-husband or ex-boyfriend during a divorce or bad break-up, where overnight they've been painted as a horrible monster. Just because someone wanted to leave and found a need to give themselves reasons.
To defend my pride and my own mistakes, I painted Jetsunma and Kunzang Palyul Choling as a cult, and the Palyul lineage as corrupt and supporting a cult. None of that is true. H. H. Penor Rinpoche would not enthrone and make a cult leader a throne holder of the Nyingma lineage. I said I didn't believe Jetsunma was the incarnation of Mandarava. And how would I know this, exactly? What is my expertise? Of course she's Mandarava. And Lamas with decades of experience and training in Buddhist teachings have examined Jetsunma's teachings and found them to be Buddhist, point to where she's teaching Buddhanature, compassion, renunciation.
Martha's an excellent author and journalist, but an author can only work with the facts that they're given, the way that they're given. I wish that I could reach every person who has read or heard of The Buddha From Brooklyn, or who has heard the slander I've spread through blogs and as Longchenpa on Wikipedia -- now helplessly replicated everywhere -- because I lied.
Here's the truth: So long as I was pointing out the faults of other people I didn't have to look at my own. Specifically:
1 - I portrayed myself as a wronged child-like innocent when in fact I was responsible for a slow, eight-year escalation as the monastic community tried to find ways to help me deal with my broken celebacy vows and unconscientious behavior.
2 - I exaggerated and called a light slap across the forehead a "beating," just because the police term for a light slap is battery.
3 - Even though I never felt in any danger from Jetsunma, I called the police and had her arrested seven months after the fact. I used it. I convinced myself that if she took the monastic robes from me, she didn't have any compassion and therefore wasn't a real Lama. (Compassion defined here as giving me what I wanted.)
4 - I cherry-picked through a book on cults by Marc Galanter, looking for correlations between Jetsunma and cults to convince myself a real teacher wouldn't have taken my monastic robes away. I didn't give the (out of print) book to Martha Sherrill so she had no way of seeing what a stretch this was.
5 - I played to Martha's own doubts, increasing them.
Bad enough I convinced myself. In order to keep this house of cards up, I went out of my way to convince Martha Sherrill and everyone else who would listen that I was right. Martha could have done a lot of good with this book and my lies and twisted perspective made it destructive.
Since the publication of The Buddha From Brooklyn, Jetsunma and her students have weathered constant criticism from Buddhist students, have been shunned, and faced weird speculation about Jetsunma that doesn't even resemble what was in the book. My words have been used to vilify her on blogs, in the press, and it has colored the perception of everything she and her monks and nuns do in the Buddhist community, from animal rescue, to hospice work, to the 24-hour prayer vigil. At best they're damned with faint praise. Some people have even spent huge amounts of time tearing her down. This is my fault. Prior to The Buddha From Brooklyn no one did this.
People took my word over the word of teachers like H. H. Penor Rinpoche, who said that Jetsunma is extraordinary. It's like taking the word of an ordinary Joe in the Tonight Show audience over the Dalai Lama. And now there's almost nothing I can do to take those words back.
Martha's an excellent author and journalist, but an author can only work with the facts that they're given, the way that they're given. I wish that I could reach every person who has read or heard of The Buddha From Brooklyn, or who has heard the slander I've spread through blogs and as Longchenpa on Wikipedia -- now helplessly replicated everywhere -- because I lied.
There are liars who make things up out of whole cloth. Those lies are easily discovered, easily defended against. Then there are liars who tell the truth selectively with a spin geared to the audience whom they get to know very well, as I got to know Martha. They make a whole truth out of two half truths and weave an entirely new picture embedded with bits of the truth, like glittering bits of broken glass. I am the second type of liar. A liar of this stripe has no sense of the truth. It is all simply fodder for the next story. Truth is multi-valent, isn't it? Multi-layered? Well, I've had no sense of the truth because I've had no self-honesty. From my lack of self-honesty came self-deception -- all stemming from protecting my pride. From self-deception I could convey a genuine sense of sincerity and sweetness. Believability, because I believed my own story, too. For the moment. There was always another layer to it. That's how I explained The Buddha From Brooklyn to myself. I thought I didn't gloss over or leave anything out. There were merely ... other layers.
Martha Sherrill caught me changing my story several times but she believed in my good intentions. As did I. A con artist has to con themselves first so they can mimic the right emotional facade to elicit the response they want, wrapping themselves around their audience like a snake.
It was almost impossible for Jetsunma and KPC to defend against this kind of lie because it was salted with the truth. Many of us have experienced this sort of lie from an ex-husband or ex-boyfriend during a divorce or bad break-up, where overnight they've been painted as a horrible monster. Just because someone wanted to leave and found a need to give themselves reasons.
To defend my pride and my own mistakes, I painted Jetsunma and Kunzang Palyul Choling as a cult, and the Palyul lineage as corrupt and supporting a cult. None of that is true. H. H. Penor Rinpoche would not enthrone and make a cult leader a throne holder of the Nyingma lineage. I said I didn't believe Jetsunma was the incarnation of Mandarava. And how would I know this, exactly? What is my expertise? Of course she's Mandarava. And Lamas with decades of experience and training in Buddhist teachings have examined Jetsunma's teachings and found them to be Buddhist, point to where she's teaching Buddhanature, compassion, renunciation.
Martha's an excellent author and journalist, but an author can only work with the facts that they're given, the way that they're given. I wish that I could reach every person who has read or heard of The Buddha From Brooklyn, or who has heard the slander I've spread through blogs and as Longchenpa on Wikipedia -- now helplessly replicated everywhere -- because I lied.
Here's the truth: So long as I was pointing out the faults of other people I didn't have to look at my own. Specifically:
1 - I portrayed myself as a wronged child-like innocent when in fact I was responsible for a slow, eight-year escalation as the monastic community tried to find ways to help me deal with my broken celebacy vows and unconscientious behavior.
2 - I exaggerated and called a light slap across the forehead a "beating," just because the police term for a light slap is battery.
3 - Even though I never felt in any danger from Jetsunma, I called the police and had her arrested seven months after the fact. I used it. I convinced myself that if she took the monastic robes from me, she didn't have any compassion and therefore wasn't a real Lama. (Compassion defined here as giving me what I wanted.)
4 - I cherry-picked through a book on cults by Marc Galanter, looking for correlations between Jetsunma and cults to convince myself a real teacher wouldn't have taken my monastic robes away. I didn't give the (out of print) book to Martha Sherrill so she had no way of seeing what a stretch this was.
5 - I played to Martha's own doubts, increasing them.
Bad enough I convinced myself. In order to keep this house of cards up, I went out of my way to convince Martha Sherrill and everyone else who would listen that I was right. Martha could have done a lot of good with this book and my lies and twisted perspective made it destructive.
Since the publication of The Buddha From Brooklyn, Jetsunma and her students have weathered constant criticism from Buddhist students, have been shunned, and faced weird speculation about Jetsunma that doesn't even resemble what was in the book. My words have been used to vilify her on blogs, in the press, and it has colored the perception of everything she and her monks and nuns do in the Buddhist community, from animal rescue, to hospice work, to the 24-hour prayer vigil. At best they're damned with faint praise. Some people have even spent huge amounts of time tearing her down. This is my fault. Prior to The Buddha From Brooklyn no one did this.
People took my word over the word of teachers like H. H. Penor Rinpoche, who said that Jetsunma is extraordinary. It's like taking the word of an ordinary Joe in the Tonight Show audience over the Dalai Lama. And now there's almost nothing I can do to take those words back.
April 29, 2023
Rick had been a student of Tibetan Buddhism for more than two decades already–in his twenties he had studied with Geshe Lobsang Tharchin, and later he had spent six years as a student of Chögyam Trungpa Rinpoche, a gifted Tibetan lama who died in 1987. And Rick felt that he had seen what havoc a brilliant but self-destructive tulku could produce. Trungpa Rinpoche, although Rick admired him greatly, was a terrible drunk, and, albeit married, he slept with a large circle of students (p272).Question: Is the Brooklyn new age trance medium and guide actually a brilliant and somewhat havoc wreaking reincarnated Buddha or just a clever clothes loving charmer bilking naïve truth seekers?
I almost didn’t finish reading The Buddha from Brooklyn. Why? And why did I finish it? And, in the end I am glad I did finish it.
Both may be answered around the issue of whether or not the Brooklyn Buddha, Jetsunma Ahkon Lhamo née Alyce L. Zeoli aka Catharine Burroughs had managed to turn her 1985 recognition by senior Tibetan Buddhists as the reincarnation of the prominent Genyenma Akhon Lhamo, the sister of Rigdzin Kunzang Sherab the First Throneholder of the Palyul lineage, into a cult.
I’m not 100% sure that Sherrill’s exploration can be considered truly a biography. To some extent it is an uneasy mix between autobiography and biography, as the mostly upbeat energy of Jetsunma and her community captured Sherrill’s imagination with the feeling of a kind of wonder at the obvious spiritual power of Jetsunma and the joy of those who follow her. Would Sherrill join?
With her extended time with the people of the temple, some of what was hidden by the energy and high gloss shine of make-up and spiritual bravado became known. And with that some strong parallels to cult behaviours began to make themselves known. And this part of the book may be closer to biography, with a kind of ‘just the facts, ma’am’ kind of writing. And even the facts are in dispute. Following publication, one of the key critical voices from one of the senior nuns has published here on Goodreads in a ‘review’, her confession of having lied to Sherrill: In it she claims to have lied about what she told Sherrill. That adds an interesting twist. Did she lie then, or is she lying now? Hmmm. See https://www.goodreads.com/review/show....
Why am I glad I finished it? It confirmed for me that Tibetan Buddhism has absolutely no appeal to me, and whether or not the Brooklyn Buddha is a cult leader or not is moot. The formality and ritual and rules contradict and assault my understanding of what Buddha actually taught and brings the touch of Tibetan Buddhism I saw here beyond Jetsunma’s version pretty damn close to being a cult. For a religion founded on the philosophy of Buddha, who stressed the importance of compassion and reality of impermanence, all I inferred from this Tibetan ‘story’ was that of a highly hierarchical structure lacking compassion and fixated on rigidity in its history, behaviour and form.
And the other reason is that despite Sherrill’s, and likely her editors’, efforts I enjoyed the little bit of the autobiographical struggle Sherrill shared. I would have liked maybe a little bit more of that. If she had, of course, it wouldn’t even be as close to a biography that this book almost is. And likely true biography readers will find even that annoying. I confess, that I am not by habit nor inclination at all interested in reading biographies, and you will find very few in my books read pile.
As to Jetsunma’s temple housing a cult? That will be for each reader to consider for him/her self.
Three stars ★★★
February 28, 2024
This is a good book about an unpleasant person who started a religious cult and her cult hangers-on.
It is not a great book, however, because the author, though an experienced and widely published journalist did not seem to fully understand even half of what she was observing. Worse than that, she does not seem to understand Tibet, or Buddhism itself. What's more, the writing is all in the most workday, conventional, uninspired journalese.
However, this book does serve the socially beneficial function of warning people away from Alyce Zeoli, aka Catharine Burroughs, aka Jetsunma Ahkon Llamo. Why? Simply because the story of Alyce Zeoli is a pile-up of outrages and follies almost without peer in the annals of religious cultism.
Zeoli is a troubled woman from a sketchy background who, after coming into contact with the Black Mountain cult in rural Virginia and getting married to a man she met there, started channeling spirits to a small, rapt audience in her basement for tips and donations. During these seances she often channeled prophets or extra-terrestrials, such as one voice claiming to be "Andor, head of the Intergalactic Council."
One of her popular spirits spoke in a high-pitched voice dispensing saccharine fortune-cookie advice and called herself "Miss Buddha." The hillbilly jackasses in her audience lapped it up.
As the author records, Zeoli's husband was startled when she confided to him that she was making it all up as she went along, just for yucks and dollars. Yet he continued to support and promote her carnival act, of course, because money.
By sheer chance, Zeoli -- then going by the name Catharine Burroughs -- happened to meet a Tibetan lama named Penor Rinpoche, visiting the USA to sell rugs to support his monastery in India.
Zeoli was somehow able to convince the Rinpoche that her New Age ravings hinted at some sublime inner wisdom. So. Penor Rinpoche quickly "recognized" Zeoli as the tulku (mind-stream rebirth) of a cave-dwelling woman in old Tibet known for her severe meditation teachings, Ahkon Lhamo.
As Sherill tells it, Zeoli was thrilled by this recognition -- or at least she was until she found out that this Ahkon Lhamo person was not particularly famous. Then she complained bitterly to her husband and others.
Yet she used the recognition of her Tulku-hood as publicity springboard, getting herself on TV for the crowning and enthronement ritual. People were amused and entertained and the public got interested in this "Buddha from Brooklyn."
Using her newfound Buddha crew, Zeoli was able to pressure, charm and bamboozle yet another Tibetan Rinpoche into recognizing her as "an emanation" of Mandarava, a Tantric consort of Guru Rinpoche -- the semi-mythical founding figure who is pretty much the Jesus of Tibet.
Go-Ask-Alyce Zeoli insisted that her followers now call her "Jetsunma," a term of ultimate respect for a Tibetan woman teacher. The gaggle of higher up Lamas and Rinpoches who attended her TV coronation were a little shocked and maybe even a bit outraged by this display of presumption.
Soon plenty of money was flowing into her organization, not only by way of tax-free donations but because she insisted that all of her followers work full time jobs, pay rent to live at the new temple in Poolesville, and hand over half of their earnings, which she inevitably blew on luxury items -- a gold toilet seat, jewels, perfume, designer clothing.
Yet, instead of just relaxing and enjoying the success of her long grift con game, Catharine Burroughs kept upping the ante with more and more outrageous displays of temper and selfishness. Sherill's book documents the ugly cascade of hectoring, abuse, tantrums, gaslighting, stalking, threatening, and character assassination that ensued. Quite an untidy parade of horrors.
Eventually, the Tibetan Lamas who'd crowded around her for the enthronement all cold-shouldered or turned against her, Penor Rinpoche even dictating a letter on official Namdroling Monastery letterhead calling her mentally ill and demanding that she stop teaching the Dharma.
For Zeoli openly shattered just about every Buddhist rule in the Buddhist rule book by drinking, taking drugs, and having sex with her followers, even casually breaking up their marriages if she felt like it.
And unlike other misbehaving Rinpoches of recent times, such as Sogyal, she didn't try to hide her bad behavior, but flaunted it like a gigantic beehive hair-do everywhere and at every opportunity.
Some of Zeoli's monks and nuns she publicly shamed, beat up or verbally abused with a harshness that is chilling to the heart even reading about these events years later.
When Zeoli divorced her husband, she celebrated with a "divorce party" at which she encouraged her monks and nuns to take turns stabbing an effigy she had made of him. Then, to the cheers of her audience, she smashed the banana that had been attached to the effigy to represent her husband's penis.
At the close of that drunken evening, which so confused and horrified a visiting group of Tibetan monks from Namdroling HQ, the mannequin representing her ex-husband was dragged out onto the driveway and repeatedly run over by a pickup truck. Then Zeoli's pacific monks and nuns took turns urinating on it.
Zeoli came up with a variety of high concept money-making schemes and grifts, which fizzled one after the other, leaving the KPC organization in chaos and near bankruptcy. Yet she insisted nonetheless on taking a 10 grand a month salary, tax free, from the pockets of her constituents.
And every single monk and every nun on the Poolesville compound had to sign a piece of paper releasing Zeoli from any responsibility to care for them in their old age, or should they become sick or disabled.
Sherill records with some verve and relish Zeoli's attempts to get a Hollywood film made about her life and exploits as a "Living Buddha." Zeoli comes tantalizingly close to a major production deal, with either Melanie Griffith or Meryl Streep assigned to portray her flamboyant eminence.
But the burgeoning movie project falls through -- mainly due to rumors now widely circulating about her paranoid cult craziness. Horribly vexed, Zeoli blames malign spirits and insists on renewed and extraordinary displays of kow-towing zeal from all of her followers.
Sherill's account takes us up to 1999, when most of the Poolesville monks and nuns of the "Kunzang Palyul Choling" (KPC) travel to Sedona, Arizona to set up a spanking new temple. Zeoli's reason? She thinks the world is about to end by fire and flood, as per a Hopi prophecy, and she thinks her congregation will enjoy safety up in the high desert.
But that isn't the end of this sordid charade masquerading as an uplifting story.
After this book came out, the author was so deluged by death-threats from members of Jetsunma's congregation that she feared for her life.
In 2011, Zeoli leapt suddenly once again into the news limelight after the FBI/Federal-Marshal arrest of another American Tulku named William L. Cassidy, aka "Tenpa Rinpoche,' author of multiple books on pistol shooting and knife fighting, and briefly and formerly CEO of the "KPC" itself during a few of the Sedona years -- on charges of cyberstalking her over Twitter.
Zeoli was named "Victim 1" in the court documents, which claimed that she had been so shattered by emotional distress over Cassidy's e-taunts and insults that for over a year she was unable to leave her house.
However, during that year Zeoli herself was on Twitter constantly, all day every day and most of every night, as were all of her monks and nuns, attacking Cassidy's reputation and spreading paranoia about his supposedly nefarious activities.
Cassidy was flown from his home in California to a federal prison in Baltimore, where he sat in a cell for almost a year as his court-appointed defense team prepared for the big trial.
However, in December of that year the case got tossed out of court by a federal judge who, in a ringing and rather scornful legal opinion, condemned the whole case as an outrageous violation of Cassidy's First Amendment right to free speech.
Soon after that, it was revealed that Zeoli's right hand monk, a certain "Palzang," had been caught saffron-handed raping school children in Sedona. Interestingly, it wasn't his first rodeo. He had ridden this range before. He surrendered himself to the Law and got sentenced to a mandatory 20 years in the Arizona State Prison system.
After this wild setback, Zeoli shut down the Sedona grift operation and returned to rural Maryland.
The Tulku's Temple in Poolesville is now closed for violations of the fire code, and donations have dried up to the point that it might never re-open.
Here is a brief timeline of events covered in the book:
Penor Rinpoche is born in 1932, the year of the Water Monkey, in the twelfth month, in the Powo region of Kham, East Tibet.
Various recognitions, teachings, lineage empowerments, yadda yada ya. The Chinese invade. In 1959, Penor Rinpoche flees with a group of 300 monks, over the mountains into India.
Of the 300 monks, only 30 make it to India. There are skirmishes with the PLA. Grenades are tossed. Pistols fired (by monks!)
1963. Rainy season, India. Penor Rinpoche builds a bamboo temple to train some monks in Dzogchen.
1970's. Penor Rinpoche teaches at Namdroling, in northern India. The Tibetan diaspora in full swing. CIA everywhere.
1970's. Penor Rinpoche teaches at Namdroling, in northern India. The Tibetan diaspora in full swing. CIA everywhere.
It's the '80's now, decade of bad hair & wicked fingernails. Penor heads to the USA -- a tour to sell rugs to support his monks.
There, Penor meets a dubious character named Catharine Burroughs, who offers to sell some [d]rugs for him, or whatever.
This Catharine Burroughs character is real swell. She holds meeting in her basement where she speaks in the voices of various extra-terrestrial beings & demons.
One day she confesses proudly to her true-believing husband, Michael Burroughs, that these striking spirit-colloquies are all an act. She isn't really going into trances and channeling other-dimensional beings. Ain't no Oracle. Just a garden variety shill.
Maybe that's where the end of their marriage begins.
Very unwisely, in the opinion of some, Penor recognizes Catharine Burroughs as a "tulku" -- this is in 1988. About ten years later he will recognize B movie actor star Steven Seagal as a tulku, to the general head-shaking disgust of everybody in Hollywood who know what a loathsome bottom feeder Segal is, which means by ALL of Hollywood.
So it's 1988. An odd woman with big Brooklyn hair has been recognized as a "tulku" (oh! a tulku!) by the head of a shit little backwater Nyingma lineage. This is big news! It's on TV. She's "the Buddha from Brooklyn!"
However, cracks are already appearing on the smooth dark ice.
For one thing, Buddhist bigwig Gyatrul Rinpoche (namaste!) is pissed off, because Catharine's students have given her a bigger honorific title than even he has, and he's supposed to be the big cheese at the enthroning event. Tibetans are sensitive to marks of rank.
For another, Catharine's students set up electric zappers to kill insects at her enthronment. This is truly bad karma. To be blowing the lion's conch while insects die crisped by bolts of electricity all around the compound.
"Someone" cuts the wires. At night. May we assume Gyatrul gave one of his people the order & the task?
Catharine stays up half the night blowing on the [cock] conch. She's worried she won't be able to get a big enough sound out of it to impress the visiting monks. It would be pathetic to hear only a squeak on the soundtrack. By morning, her lips are numb & her cheeks sore.
Throughout the '90's, Catharine struggles to build her colorful monastery in the wilds of Maryland. She also manages to secure herself a hefty salary of 10 grand per month, tax-free, which she blows on make-up, jewels, and designer clothes.
She blows off steam by seducing her fine-looking students, both male and female. Husband objects.
As a going away present, upon finalizing their divorce, Catharine gifts Michael a giant crystal ball, like the one in the Wizard of Oz. He disappears with it under his arm. (Presumably, he still owns the ball. Maybe he gazes sadly into it sometimes. Maybe he uses it to contact gods & aliens. But he doesn't want to talk about his ex-wife anymore, or have the slightest thing to do with her burbling madness.)
Catharine's self-esteem suffers a bitter blow when Richard Gere blows here off at a big event, walking right past her as if she didn't exist, and refusing to snatch the white scarf she's waving at him as a peace offering and publicity stunt.
Things go steeply downhill. Soon she is wearing leather bondage style duds and beating up her nuns in front of the whole congregation then shaming them with bad poetry.
.......
It is not a great book, however, because the author, though an experienced and widely published journalist did not seem to fully understand even half of what she was observing. Worse than that, she does not seem to understand Tibet, or Buddhism itself. What's more, the writing is all in the most workday, conventional, uninspired journalese.
However, this book does serve the socially beneficial function of warning people away from Alyce Zeoli, aka Catharine Burroughs, aka Jetsunma Ahkon Llamo. Why? Simply because the story of Alyce Zeoli is a pile-up of outrages and follies almost without peer in the annals of religious cultism.
Zeoli is a troubled woman from a sketchy background who, after coming into contact with the Black Mountain cult in rural Virginia and getting married to a man she met there, started channeling spirits to a small, rapt audience in her basement for tips and donations. During these seances she often channeled prophets or extra-terrestrials, such as one voice claiming to be "Andor, head of the Intergalactic Council."
One of her popular spirits spoke in a high-pitched voice dispensing saccharine fortune-cookie advice and called herself "Miss Buddha." The hillbilly jackasses in her audience lapped it up.
As the author records, Zeoli's husband was startled when she confided to him that she was making it all up as she went along, just for yucks and dollars. Yet he continued to support and promote her carnival act, of course, because money.
By sheer chance, Zeoli -- then going by the name Catharine Burroughs -- happened to meet a Tibetan lama named Penor Rinpoche, visiting the USA to sell rugs to support his monastery in India.
Zeoli was somehow able to convince the Rinpoche that her New Age ravings hinted at some sublime inner wisdom. So. Penor Rinpoche quickly "recognized" Zeoli as the tulku (mind-stream rebirth) of a cave-dwelling woman in old Tibet known for her severe meditation teachings, Ahkon Lhamo.
As Sherill tells it, Zeoli was thrilled by this recognition -- or at least she was until she found out that this Ahkon Lhamo person was not particularly famous. Then she complained bitterly to her husband and others.
Yet she used the recognition of her Tulku-hood as publicity springboard, getting herself on TV for the crowning and enthronement ritual. People were amused and entertained and the public got interested in this "Buddha from Brooklyn."
Using her newfound Buddha crew, Zeoli was able to pressure, charm and bamboozle yet another Tibetan Rinpoche into recognizing her as "an emanation" of Mandarava, a Tantric consort of Guru Rinpoche -- the semi-mythical founding figure who is pretty much the Jesus of Tibet.
Go-Ask-Alyce Zeoli insisted that her followers now call her "Jetsunma," a term of ultimate respect for a Tibetan woman teacher. The gaggle of higher up Lamas and Rinpoches who attended her TV coronation were a little shocked and maybe even a bit outraged by this display of presumption.
Soon plenty of money was flowing into her organization, not only by way of tax-free donations but because she insisted that all of her followers work full time jobs, pay rent to live at the new temple in Poolesville, and hand over half of their earnings, which she inevitably blew on luxury items -- a gold toilet seat, jewels, perfume, designer clothing.
Yet, instead of just relaxing and enjoying the success of her long grift con game, Catharine Burroughs kept upping the ante with more and more outrageous displays of temper and selfishness. Sherill's book documents the ugly cascade of hectoring, abuse, tantrums, gaslighting, stalking, threatening, and character assassination that ensued. Quite an untidy parade of horrors.
Eventually, the Tibetan Lamas who'd crowded around her for the enthronement all cold-shouldered or turned against her, Penor Rinpoche even dictating a letter on official Namdroling Monastery letterhead calling her mentally ill and demanding that she stop teaching the Dharma.
For Zeoli openly shattered just about every Buddhist rule in the Buddhist rule book by drinking, taking drugs, and having sex with her followers, even casually breaking up their marriages if she felt like it.
And unlike other misbehaving Rinpoches of recent times, such as Sogyal, she didn't try to hide her bad behavior, but flaunted it like a gigantic beehive hair-do everywhere and at every opportunity.
Some of Zeoli's monks and nuns she publicly shamed, beat up or verbally abused with a harshness that is chilling to the heart even reading about these events years later.
When Zeoli divorced her husband, she celebrated with a "divorce party" at which she encouraged her monks and nuns to take turns stabbing an effigy she had made of him. Then, to the cheers of her audience, she smashed the banana that had been attached to the effigy to represent her husband's penis.
At the close of that drunken evening, which so confused and horrified a visiting group of Tibetan monks from Namdroling HQ, the mannequin representing her ex-husband was dragged out onto the driveway and repeatedly run over by a pickup truck. Then Zeoli's pacific monks and nuns took turns urinating on it.
Zeoli came up with a variety of high concept money-making schemes and grifts, which fizzled one after the other, leaving the KPC organization in chaos and near bankruptcy. Yet she insisted nonetheless on taking a 10 grand a month salary, tax free, from the pockets of her constituents.
And every single monk and every nun on the Poolesville compound had to sign a piece of paper releasing Zeoli from any responsibility to care for them in their old age, or should they become sick or disabled.
Sherill records with some verve and relish Zeoli's attempts to get a Hollywood film made about her life and exploits as a "Living Buddha." Zeoli comes tantalizingly close to a major production deal, with either Melanie Griffith or Meryl Streep assigned to portray her flamboyant eminence.
But the burgeoning movie project falls through -- mainly due to rumors now widely circulating about her paranoid cult craziness. Horribly vexed, Zeoli blames malign spirits and insists on renewed and extraordinary displays of kow-towing zeal from all of her followers.
Sherill's account takes us up to 1999, when most of the Poolesville monks and nuns of the "Kunzang Palyul Choling" (KPC) travel to Sedona, Arizona to set up a spanking new temple. Zeoli's reason? She thinks the world is about to end by fire and flood, as per a Hopi prophecy, and she thinks her congregation will enjoy safety up in the high desert.
But that isn't the end of this sordid charade masquerading as an uplifting story.
After this book came out, the author was so deluged by death-threats from members of Jetsunma's congregation that she feared for her life.
In 2011, Zeoli leapt suddenly once again into the news limelight after the FBI/Federal-Marshal arrest of another American Tulku named William L. Cassidy, aka "Tenpa Rinpoche,' author of multiple books on pistol shooting and knife fighting, and briefly and formerly CEO of the "KPC" itself during a few of the Sedona years -- on charges of cyberstalking her over Twitter.
Zeoli was named "Victim 1" in the court documents, which claimed that she had been so shattered by emotional distress over Cassidy's e-taunts and insults that for over a year she was unable to leave her house.
However, during that year Zeoli herself was on Twitter constantly, all day every day and most of every night, as were all of her monks and nuns, attacking Cassidy's reputation and spreading paranoia about his supposedly nefarious activities.
Cassidy was flown from his home in California to a federal prison in Baltimore, where he sat in a cell for almost a year as his court-appointed defense team prepared for the big trial.
However, in December of that year the case got tossed out of court by a federal judge who, in a ringing and rather scornful legal opinion, condemned the whole case as an outrageous violation of Cassidy's First Amendment right to free speech.
Soon after that, it was revealed that Zeoli's right hand monk, a certain "Palzang," had been caught saffron-handed raping school children in Sedona. Interestingly, it wasn't his first rodeo. He had ridden this range before. He surrendered himself to the Law and got sentenced to a mandatory 20 years in the Arizona State Prison system.
After this wild setback, Zeoli shut down the Sedona grift operation and returned to rural Maryland.
The Tulku's Temple in Poolesville is now closed for violations of the fire code, and donations have dried up to the point that it might never re-open.
Here is a brief timeline of events covered in the book:
Penor Rinpoche is born in 1932, the year of the Water Monkey, in the twelfth month, in the Powo region of Kham, East Tibet.
Various recognitions, teachings, lineage empowerments, yadda yada ya. The Chinese invade. In 1959, Penor Rinpoche flees with a group of 300 monks, over the mountains into India.
Of the 300 monks, only 30 make it to India. There are skirmishes with the PLA. Grenades are tossed. Pistols fired (by monks!)
1963. Rainy season, India. Penor Rinpoche builds a bamboo temple to train some monks in Dzogchen.
1970's. Penor Rinpoche teaches at Namdroling, in northern India. The Tibetan diaspora in full swing. CIA everywhere.
1970's. Penor Rinpoche teaches at Namdroling, in northern India. The Tibetan diaspora in full swing. CIA everywhere.
It's the '80's now, decade of bad hair & wicked fingernails. Penor heads to the USA -- a tour to sell rugs to support his monks.
There, Penor meets a dubious character named Catharine Burroughs, who offers to sell some [d]rugs for him, or whatever.
This Catharine Burroughs character is real swell. She holds meeting in her basement where she speaks in the voices of various extra-terrestrial beings & demons.
One day she confesses proudly to her true-believing husband, Michael Burroughs, that these striking spirit-colloquies are all an act. She isn't really going into trances and channeling other-dimensional beings. Ain't no Oracle. Just a garden variety shill.
Maybe that's where the end of their marriage begins.
Very unwisely, in the opinion of some, Penor recognizes Catharine Burroughs as a "tulku" -- this is in 1988. About ten years later he will recognize B movie actor star Steven Seagal as a tulku, to the general head-shaking disgust of everybody in Hollywood who know what a loathsome bottom feeder Segal is, which means by ALL of Hollywood.
So it's 1988. An odd woman with big Brooklyn hair has been recognized as a "tulku" (oh! a tulku!) by the head of a shit little backwater Nyingma lineage. This is big news! It's on TV. She's "the Buddha from Brooklyn!"
However, cracks are already appearing on the smooth dark ice.
For one thing, Buddhist bigwig Gyatrul Rinpoche (namaste!) is pissed off, because Catharine's students have given her a bigger honorific title than even he has, and he's supposed to be the big cheese at the enthroning event. Tibetans are sensitive to marks of rank.
For another, Catharine's students set up electric zappers to kill insects at her enthronment. This is truly bad karma. To be blowing the lion's conch while insects die crisped by bolts of electricity all around the compound.
"Someone" cuts the wires. At night. May we assume Gyatrul gave one of his people the order & the task?
Catharine stays up half the night blowing on the [cock] conch. She's worried she won't be able to get a big enough sound out of it to impress the visiting monks. It would be pathetic to hear only a squeak on the soundtrack. By morning, her lips are numb & her cheeks sore.
Throughout the '90's, Catharine struggles to build her colorful monastery in the wilds of Maryland. She also manages to secure herself a hefty salary of 10 grand per month, tax-free, which she blows on make-up, jewels, and designer clothes.
She blows off steam by seducing her fine-looking students, both male and female. Husband objects.
As a going away present, upon finalizing their divorce, Catharine gifts Michael a giant crystal ball, like the one in the Wizard of Oz. He disappears with it under his arm. (Presumably, he still owns the ball. Maybe he gazes sadly into it sometimes. Maybe he uses it to contact gods & aliens. But he doesn't want to talk about his ex-wife anymore, or have the slightest thing to do with her burbling madness.)
Catharine's self-esteem suffers a bitter blow when Richard Gere blows here off at a big event, walking right past her as if she didn't exist, and refusing to snatch the white scarf she's waving at him as a peace offering and publicity stunt.
Things go steeply downhill. Soon she is wearing leather bondage style duds and beating up her nuns in front of the whole congregation then shaming them with bad poetry.
.......
July 5, 2023
A STORY OF A TIBETAN BUDDHIST COMMUNITY IN AMERICA
Author Martha Sherrill wrote in the Prologue to this 2000 book, “Jetsunma … is a tulku. And she is the one who lured me to Poolesville and to this place called … ‘Fully Awakened Dharma Continent of Absolute Clear Light… For a year I had been coming to Poolesville as a journalist, and this mysterious woman---an American woman and a Tibetan Buddhist lame---was my subject. I had met Jetsunma in 1993… She was in her forties… She was earthy, worldly, a shade tacky… Within the hierarchy of Tibetan Buddhism, she held a revered position, particularly for a Western woman… And the Tibetan Buddhist center she had founded in 1986 had quickly become one of the most prominent in the United States… She was also running the largest monastery of Tibetan Buddhist monks and nuns in America. I knew next to nothing about Tibetan Buddhism when I first ventured to Poolesville…” (Pg. xii-xiii)
She continues, “Early in … 1995, His Holiness Penor Rinpoche had visited Poolesville and had given Jetsunma a rare collection of ancient relics… And Jetsunma had set out to build a stupa [sacred monument] worthy of them. When I arrived … in the woods where the stupa stood… it still hadn’t been sanded or painted. And the impressive landscaping plans… for shrubs and well-placed spotlights, were still on hold. The money had run out… But even so… the stupa had an unworldly loveliness… the stupa moved me like no historical monument in Washington ever had… a thought came into my mind… as though the stupa itself had whispered it to me. ‘There are sacred things.’ There are sacred towers and sacred texts and sacred teachings and sacred traditions. And the truth is, absolutely everything sacred has some people behind it.” (Pg. xiv-xv)
Jetsunma said, “We’ve been programmed, really. By the things our parents told us. The Things society tells us. And conventional wisdom is really just our inner programming… And what are we told?... we are told the path to happiness is materialistic… We are told you will be happy if you are a success, and … to be a success, you have to be more than others…. And then, suddenly, you meet up with the BuddhaDharma. And the BuddhaDharma tells us very different things… So we are frightened of that information. That information is not welcome… that information puts us back in the beginning of the class… The beginning is not a comfortable place… it’s very hard to think: Oh, I have to relearn everything? It’s very, very hard…’” (Pg. 12-13)
She continues, “the BuddhaDharma tells us that in order to attain happiness, we should be generous… The mantra for materialists is ‘Gimme gimme gimme…. And not, when we begin to practice Buddhism, we’re told to let go of that… When we begin to practice Buddhism, we begin working in a broader way, begin to work for the benefit of others, begin to see the equality of all that lives, and begin to act accordingly. We begin to practice generosity, to practice mindfulness, to think of our lives as being potent only if we can work toward the liberation and salvation of other sentient beings…” (Pg. 12-14)
She tells the story of the construction of the stupa: “Jetsunma herself had picked the stupa with and approved the stupa crew… on August 1, 1995, the stupa crew began its work… Each morning the crew would meet at the temple at 7:00, do Buddhist ‘practice’---sets of prayers and visualizations and prostrations---together, and afterward at a huge breakfast prepared for them by a rotating team of nuns… All the nuns who volunteered to do stupa-related jobs had to adhere to the diet and restrictions. Normally, they ate meat---unlike the Zen Buddhists---and Tibetans themselves are famous steak lovers… It didn’t take long for Jetsunma’s crew to become a cohesive and efficient team…” (Pg. 22-25)
She observes, “Nobody like to talk too much about the downsides of stupa work: the problems of impure intention, merit depletion, and the quick ripening of karma. Just to have the chance of working on a stupa, a person had to spend merit—which can cause temporary merit depletion. You spend merit in order to generate more. And when your merit is depleted, you are vulnerable to bad things, to obstacles.” (Pg. 32)
She explains, “The path that was emphasized in Poolesville was called ‘Guru Yoga’… It is a practice designed to train the mind and heart of a student to see the lama as a living Buddha and ultimately to become one with him or her. It is thought that devotion to one’s lama alone can bring about enlightenment. To prepare one’s mind for the practice, the lama is visualized in space and time, and the lama’s special qualities… are contemplated, and the student must feel a strong desire to achieve whatever that lama has to teach. There are long visualizations and recitations and prayers that follow, but without complete faith in the lama, and belief in the lama’s Buddhahood, there is not benefit.” (Pg. 117)
She recounts, “[Jetsunma] could have kept her name, Catherine Burroughs, of course… But both she and Michael [her husband] felt it was important that she adopt a new name to signal the changes in her life... in Tibet and India a recognition doesn’t come with a title. The title is granted by popular decision. A boy who is discovered as a reincarnated lama would often be called by his birth name… years later, in acknowledgment of many good works… he might be called Rinpoche by his students and fellow lamas.” (Pg. 149)
Ultimately, Martha Sherrill took the Buddhist vows: “The vows are simple… A commitment to living things and life, to kindness and selfless efforts to end suffering. These are things that all people would hope for themselves in their better moments… [Jetsunma] handed me a folded white piece of paper… I opened the piece of paper… It was my new name, Karma Drolkar… I asked her what the name meant. ‘Literally, it means, action of White Tara,’ she said. ‘…it’s something like ‘the wisdom of the emptiness of all phenomena.’ The wisdom of emptiness. Despite all that I knew, I like that.” (Pg. 372)
She adds in the Epilogue, “In the spring of 1997, Jetsunma announced to her students that she was moving permanently to Sedona, Arizona. Certain students … were asked to move there, too. They found houses and work in Sedona. The ordained among them were told by Jetsunma that they no longer needed to wear their robes except during Buddhist prayers and ceremonies. I visited them there in 1998.” (Pg. 373)
She continues, “The temple in Poolesville still has an active and growing sangha. In 1998… It was announced that the temple had been paid off.” (Pg. 374)
This book may interest those studying Tibetan Buddhism in America.
Author Martha Sherrill wrote in the Prologue to this 2000 book, “Jetsunma … is a tulku. And she is the one who lured me to Poolesville and to this place called … ‘Fully Awakened Dharma Continent of Absolute Clear Light… For a year I had been coming to Poolesville as a journalist, and this mysterious woman---an American woman and a Tibetan Buddhist lame---was my subject. I had met Jetsunma in 1993… She was in her forties… She was earthy, worldly, a shade tacky… Within the hierarchy of Tibetan Buddhism, she held a revered position, particularly for a Western woman… And the Tibetan Buddhist center she had founded in 1986 had quickly become one of the most prominent in the United States… She was also running the largest monastery of Tibetan Buddhist monks and nuns in America. I knew next to nothing about Tibetan Buddhism when I first ventured to Poolesville…” (Pg. xii-xiii)
She continues, “Early in … 1995, His Holiness Penor Rinpoche had visited Poolesville and had given Jetsunma a rare collection of ancient relics… And Jetsunma had set out to build a stupa [sacred monument] worthy of them. When I arrived … in the woods where the stupa stood… it still hadn’t been sanded or painted. And the impressive landscaping plans… for shrubs and well-placed spotlights, were still on hold. The money had run out… But even so… the stupa had an unworldly loveliness… the stupa moved me like no historical monument in Washington ever had… a thought came into my mind… as though the stupa itself had whispered it to me. ‘There are sacred things.’ There are sacred towers and sacred texts and sacred teachings and sacred traditions. And the truth is, absolutely everything sacred has some people behind it.” (Pg. xiv-xv)
Jetsunma said, “We’ve been programmed, really. By the things our parents told us. The Things society tells us. And conventional wisdom is really just our inner programming… And what are we told?... we are told the path to happiness is materialistic… We are told you will be happy if you are a success, and … to be a success, you have to be more than others…. And then, suddenly, you meet up with the BuddhaDharma. And the BuddhaDharma tells us very different things… So we are frightened of that information. That information is not welcome… that information puts us back in the beginning of the class… The beginning is not a comfortable place… it’s very hard to think: Oh, I have to relearn everything? It’s very, very hard…’” (Pg. 12-13)
She continues, “the BuddhaDharma tells us that in order to attain happiness, we should be generous… The mantra for materialists is ‘Gimme gimme gimme…. And not, when we begin to practice Buddhism, we’re told to let go of that… When we begin to practice Buddhism, we begin working in a broader way, begin to work for the benefit of others, begin to see the equality of all that lives, and begin to act accordingly. We begin to practice generosity, to practice mindfulness, to think of our lives as being potent only if we can work toward the liberation and salvation of other sentient beings…” (Pg. 12-14)
She tells the story of the construction of the stupa: “Jetsunma herself had picked the stupa with and approved the stupa crew… on August 1, 1995, the stupa crew began its work… Each morning the crew would meet at the temple at 7:00, do Buddhist ‘practice’---sets of prayers and visualizations and prostrations---together, and afterward at a huge breakfast prepared for them by a rotating team of nuns… All the nuns who volunteered to do stupa-related jobs had to adhere to the diet and restrictions. Normally, they ate meat---unlike the Zen Buddhists---and Tibetans themselves are famous steak lovers… It didn’t take long for Jetsunma’s crew to become a cohesive and efficient team…” (Pg. 22-25)
She observes, “Nobody like to talk too much about the downsides of stupa work: the problems of impure intention, merit depletion, and the quick ripening of karma. Just to have the chance of working on a stupa, a person had to spend merit—which can cause temporary merit depletion. You spend merit in order to generate more. And when your merit is depleted, you are vulnerable to bad things, to obstacles.” (Pg. 32)
She explains, “The path that was emphasized in Poolesville was called ‘Guru Yoga’… It is a practice designed to train the mind and heart of a student to see the lama as a living Buddha and ultimately to become one with him or her. It is thought that devotion to one’s lama alone can bring about enlightenment. To prepare one’s mind for the practice, the lama is visualized in space and time, and the lama’s special qualities… are contemplated, and the student must feel a strong desire to achieve whatever that lama has to teach. There are long visualizations and recitations and prayers that follow, but without complete faith in the lama, and belief in the lama’s Buddhahood, there is not benefit.” (Pg. 117)
She recounts, “[Jetsunma] could have kept her name, Catherine Burroughs, of course… But both she and Michael [her husband] felt it was important that she adopt a new name to signal the changes in her life... in Tibet and India a recognition doesn’t come with a title. The title is granted by popular decision. A boy who is discovered as a reincarnated lama would often be called by his birth name… years later, in acknowledgment of many good works… he might be called Rinpoche by his students and fellow lamas.” (Pg. 149)
Ultimately, Martha Sherrill took the Buddhist vows: “The vows are simple… A commitment to living things and life, to kindness and selfless efforts to end suffering. These are things that all people would hope for themselves in their better moments… [Jetsunma] handed me a folded white piece of paper… I opened the piece of paper… It was my new name, Karma Drolkar… I asked her what the name meant. ‘Literally, it means, action of White Tara,’ she said. ‘…it’s something like ‘the wisdom of the emptiness of all phenomena.’ The wisdom of emptiness. Despite all that I knew, I like that.” (Pg. 372)
She adds in the Epilogue, “In the spring of 1997, Jetsunma announced to her students that she was moving permanently to Sedona, Arizona. Certain students … were asked to move there, too. They found houses and work in Sedona. The ordained among them were told by Jetsunma that they no longer needed to wear their robes except during Buddhist prayers and ceremonies. I visited them there in 1998.” (Pg. 373)
She continues, “The temple in Poolesville still has an active and growing sangha. In 1998… It was announced that the temple had been paid off.” (Pg. 374)
This book may interest those studying Tibetan Buddhism in America.
March 9, 2010
Rather than inspiring, I found the story of a woman from Brooklyn who had established a following and was revered by Tibetan monks to be boring and not a little creepy. A very ordinary rather crude person, she exhibits behavior very unlike the Buddha way. It was hard to understand her charisma, but not worth continuing to read long enough to solve the puzzle.
April 9, 2018
In 1985, a twice-divorced young mother living in Maryland ran a small prayer group in her home. A Tibetan lama visiting from India recognized her as a reincarnation of a famous historical figure in Tibetan Buddhism, and thereafter her life changed. She turned her prayer group into the largest Buddhist center in the United States. She did not herself become a nun but instead remained the leader and highest figure in the center, indulged and indulging.
The story is a compelling tale of life inside the center for the laity, nuns and monks, and others under the care of the Jetsunma Ahkon Norbu Lhamo, the Tibetan name for Alyce Zeoli. The author, a journalist with the Washington Post, delves into the history, religious tenets, day to day life and intrigue, and finances of the center through interviews with a large number of its members. The narrative is compelling, and the characters interviewed richly drawn. The author is honest about her own personal feelings as she is drawn into this world and learns about Tibetan Buddhism.
The dangers inherent in building an institution around a single charismatic individual are on display from the beginning. Red flags are flying along with the prayer flags, but most of those caught up in Jetsunma's wake don't seem to notice or care. This is both a fascinating story and a cautionary tale.
The story is a compelling tale of life inside the center for the laity, nuns and monks, and others under the care of the Jetsunma Ahkon Norbu Lhamo, the Tibetan name for Alyce Zeoli. The author, a journalist with the Washington Post, delves into the history, religious tenets, day to day life and intrigue, and finances of the center through interviews with a large number of its members. The narrative is compelling, and the characters interviewed richly drawn. The author is honest about her own personal feelings as she is drawn into this world and learns about Tibetan Buddhism.
The dangers inherent in building an institution around a single charismatic individual are on display from the beginning. Red flags are flying along with the prayer flags, but most of those caught up in Jetsunma's wake don't seem to notice or care. This is both a fascinating story and a cautionary tale.
June 1, 2025
A journalist's account of her encounters with the laity, monks and nuns of Kunzang Odsal Palyul Changchub Choling (KPC for short, a Tibetan Buddhist centre in Maryland).
KPC's founder, Jetsunma Ahkon Lhamo, was the first American woman to be recognised as a tulku (a reincarnation of an exemplary teacher). She was a spiritual teacher even before she became a Buddhist, and Sherrill traces the development of her circle from a New Age movement to a Tibetan Buddhist sangha to a dysfunctional and ultimately abusive personality cult which the traditional Tibetan leadership did not know how to deal with. She manages to do this with great sympathy, showing how each step along that road seems to have been taken in good faith, but by flawed human beings who were often quite ignorant of authentic Tibetan Buddhist beliefs and practices, with very unpleasant results.
I found that her ability to resist demonising her subjects made the story all the more chilling. She is careful to portray the good as well as the bad, giving nuanced pictures of each of her informants, for some of whom she clearly has great affection. She became a Buddhist herself in the course of working on the book, although she did not join KPC, and she includes quite a lot of information about Tibetan Buddhism that was new to me. It all makes for a fascinating read.
KPC's founder, Jetsunma Ahkon Lhamo, was the first American woman to be recognised as a tulku (a reincarnation of an exemplary teacher). She was a spiritual teacher even before she became a Buddhist, and Sherrill traces the development of her circle from a New Age movement to a Tibetan Buddhist sangha to a dysfunctional and ultimately abusive personality cult which the traditional Tibetan leadership did not know how to deal with. She manages to do this with great sympathy, showing how each step along that road seems to have been taken in good faith, but by flawed human beings who were often quite ignorant of authentic Tibetan Buddhist beliefs and practices, with very unpleasant results.
I found that her ability to resist demonising her subjects made the story all the more chilling. She is careful to portray the good as well as the bad, giving nuanced pictures of each of her informants, for some of whom she clearly has great affection. She became a Buddhist herself in the course of working on the book, although she did not join KPC, and she includes quite a lot of information about Tibetan Buddhism that was new to me. It all makes for a fascinating read.
June 9, 2017
Interesting story. Is all of it true? No way to know. But it rings somewhat true from the experience I've had in certain Tibetan Buddhist groups. (Let the buyer (student) beware! And examine the teacher and his or her actions over and over again. It's sad because Tibetan Buddhism has lofty and inspiring goals and inspires many people to do great work. But it can easily turn into a way to consolidate power and abuse those who can't or won't stand up for themselves or others.) This book walks the line between being respectful of the teacher and group it examines and looking into the darker side of it. That's an incredible balancing act. I admire the author for her ability to perform it.
It's not completely logically written, but it keeps returning to traditional texts and teachings in a fascinating way that fleshes out the story and makes it more than just a lurid tale. Truly thought-provoking more than sensational. Worth reading if you're interested in Tib. Buddhism, Buddhism in the West, spirituality, or cults.
It's not completely logically written, but it keeps returning to traditional texts and teachings in a fascinating way that fleshes out the story and makes it more than just a lurid tale. Truly thought-provoking more than sensational. Worth reading if you're interested in Tib. Buddhism, Buddhism in the West, spirituality, or cults.
January 22, 2009
A journalist's account of her encounters with the laity, monks and nuns of Kunzang Odsal Palyul Changchub Choling (KPC for short, a Tibetan Buddhist centre in Maryland). KPC's founder, Jetsunma Ahkon Lhamo, was the first American woman to be recognised as a tulku (a reincarnation of an exemplary teacher). She was a spiritual teacher even before she became a Buddhist, and Sherrill traces the development of her circle from a New Age movement to a Tibetan Buddhist sangha to a dysfunctional and ultimately abusive personality cult which the traditional Tibetan leadership did not know how to deal with. She manages to do this with great sympathy, showing how each step along that road seems to have been taken in good faith, but by flawed human beings who were often quite ignorant of authentic Tibetan Buddhist beliefs and practices, with very unpleasant results. I found that her ability to resist demonising her subjects made the story all the more chilling. She is careful to portray the good as well as the bad, giving nuanced pictures of each of her informants, for some of whom she clearly has great affection. She became a Buddhist herself in the course of working on the book, although she did not join KPC, and she includes quite a lot of information about Tibetan Buddhism that was new to me. It all makes for a fascinating read. According to the book, Jetsunma Ahkon Lhamo is no longer directly running KPC, although the website for the Nyingma tradition to which KPC belongs still lists her as its spiritual director. The management board she had appointed eventually resigned after criticisms became public (but before this book was published) and was replaced by a board elected by the members.
January 2, 2016
I truly enjoyed reading the book. I found it quite compelling. It was not what I was expecting. I enjoyed the authors honesty. I did find this group was more of a cult or a new age following. It is interesting that the Person who discovered her Penor Rinpoche. Also declared Steven Seagal is also a Tulku. Which is a person, who has been reincarnated from a previous deity? I thought it was a really good read. It did leave me in limbo! The book was written in I think 19997? I am curious how the centre is doing now. It is well worth a read. I found the book in a used book store in Denton, Texas. The title caught my eye.
May 31, 2008
I read this book from start to finish in two days. Sherrill kept my attention throughout the entire read. I feel this is a very valuable read for anyone who is a spiritual seeker. It is a wonderful reflection of the conflicts that arise when cultures of the east and west meet. Also the issues of money, support of our spiritual elders/leaders/teachers/communities and the importance of knowing one's intention when giving/gifting/charging for spiritual teachings/teachers.
It was written with compassion and appreciation for all the people involved. Well done!
It was written with compassion and appreciation for all the people involved. Well done!
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July 28, 2008This is a compelling story that shows just because an individual can be seen to be an emanation of an enlightened being does not mean that individual is a nice guy. And, followers can be a lot more admirable than gurus and other leaders. As a story of what people get up to in the name of self improvement and saving the world, this penetrating look into a disturbing community can't be beat. I highly recommend it.
August 5, 2011
This was a fascinating read. Jetsumna is a complex figure and Sherrill looks at her from all angles, generating though provoking questions about faith, organized religion, and the power of personality.
August 5, 2012
Fascinating story of an American woman recognized by Tibetan Buddhist leaders as a reincarnation of an ancient Tibetan saint, and the religious community she founded in Maryland. Cult or not? Excellent journalism, reads almost like a novel.
June 17, 2014
An excellent book, well written, from a personal and professional point of view. I enjoyed reading the book, and learned so much on several different levels. It's truly amazing what we humans can come to believe, and how easily we can be seduced.
November 16, 2007
Buddhists run amok! Oy Vey! A page turner of bad behavior...
March 13, 2009
oooooh, this sounds juicy! Thanks Miss R!
October 13, 2008
A Washington Post reporter delves in the controversial life and times of the first female, American lama.
January 10, 2009
interesting... Not what I thought it was going to be about..
May 14, 2009
This is a great story. The plot takes a few jaw-dropping turns, but the author's tone remains respectful and thoughtful.
January 23, 2010
I learned that women are just as capable as men of forming sex-related cults that venerate them.
A fun, interesting read.
A fun, interesting read.
May 8, 2007
Must read-3
Meaningful-3
Meaningful-3
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