El·e·na
[el-uh-nuh, uh-ley-nuh; It. e-le-nah]
   /ˈɛlənə, əˈleɪnə; It. ɛˈlɛnɑ/

–noun
a female given name, form of Helen.
a proud student of His Eminence Tsem Tulku Rinpoche
Personal assistant with a BSc (Hons) Psych from Uni of Warwick

These are snapshots of my life, in words and pictures

Text

The day would’ve passed by rather unremarkably (did the world stop? No) had I not had a task that was specifically designed to send me down memory lane.

It just so happens that this weekend, my mother, my sister and I will be giving a talk at the Kechara Sunday Service about our journey in the Dharma. My mother asked me to look for old photos of myself and my siblings with Rinpoche to accompany our talk.

After scouring thousands of photos since the 1990s, I’ve come to a conclusion - I have led a pretty privileged 26 years.

I know that hindsight can have blinders, and you forget the bad memories because they’re never captured in photographs. But for all that I complain about in my life, I really shouldn’t. Yes things get difficult but those times in my life are interrupted by long spells of general contentment and everything’s-gonna-be-okay.

And it’s these moments that are captured in photographs. Looking at them, I want to go back to the moment captured in that photograph, to experience the sounds, the sights, the smells and the feeling of it once again.

But the trouble is, once I’m dead, all of these memories are meaningless. They’re precious to no one but me and the people in the pictures, and once THEY are all gone, the pictures become…irrelevant. Nothing but bits of ink printed onto scraps of paper.

So what’s a girl to do?

When I was in my late teens, I read a quote by Bruce Lee that has stuck with me forever - “The key to immortality is to live a life worth remembering”.

I think that’s what I’m going to do :)

Text

I was with a friend last night, and we got on to talking about numerology. He found the results of his number rather interesting, so we started working on mine (I’m a 7).

I did a quick search online and found this report about 7s. Whilst I’m interested in these types of…mystical endeavours (I <3 Rinpoche’s horoscope widget), I always approach these kinds of reports with some trepidation because I find them to be generalised, playing on our wish to find something that will explain the way we are. I also find that people tend to read them with a biasness which makes me distrust the ‘accuracy’ they find in these reports.

What do I mean by bias? When we read them, we identify ourselves with the positive aspects of the report, and disregard the irrelevant / negative. We read these reports to valid who we are and what we do; we read these reports and invariably think, “OMG, that is SO true about me!”

But this report? This report was uncannily accurate in both the positive and negative, so I just thought I’d immortalise it (ha.) by posting it here, with bolded sentences to reflect what is true (did I just contradict myself? Hehe)

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Chelsea shirt -_- #football (Taken with Instagram)

Chelsea shirt -_- #football (Taken with Instagram)

Happy birthday Sharon! (Taken with Instagram)

Happy birthday Sharon! (Taken with Instagram)

Sohealthycandie #vegan #vegetarian #omnomnom
(Taken with Instagram)

Sohealthycandie #vegan #vegetarian #omnomnom

(Taken with Instagram)

We may be in our mid-20s but our dad still packs dinner for us by hand&#8230;

Daddy-o is a cool cat. He lets me call him daddy-o, pops, poppaloppaloff, pa, papadeedoo and his response is always the same: &#8220;hehehehe&#8221;.

He takes the family teasing about his weird music taste, random gifts (Persian lemon, anyone?), Cina ah pek food choices, and &#8220;I must take you there, it&#8217;s a secret place&#8221; moments. He puts up with our dumb comments and jokes, and disinterest in what he does. He sponsors my mum, my sister and me, AND doesn&#8217;t complain we are doing Dharma work.

He doesn&#8217;t make us go on family trips with him. He doesn&#8217;t complain that we don&#8217;t spend time together. He doesn&#8217;t insist on family dinners. He doesn&#8217;t dictate that we should all stay at home with him. He doesn&#8217;t force us to get married, study things we don&#8217;t want to, or groom us to take over his company.

We do our own thing, and he does his. He gives us advice and if we don&#8217;t want to take it, he will gripe a little, more out of frustration that we&#8217;re usually about to make a mistake, then let us make the mistake anyway to learn for ourselves. And if it does go right, he congratulates us without feeling bad that he was wrong.

But I know he misses us. When I SMS, he calls back just to chat. Sometimes, he will call me then as soon as we finish talking, he will call my sister who is just next to me. Whenever I ask if he&#8217;s free for dinner or just to chill out, he&#8217;s always free. So on the rare occasions he does ask me for something, I try my best to accommodate him.

We couldn&#8217;t do what we do with such freedom without your quiet support so thank you for being as awesome as you are. Daddy, we love you!

We may be in our mid-20s but our dad still packs dinner for us by hand…

Daddy-o is a cool cat. He lets me call him daddy-o, pops, poppaloppaloff, pa, papadeedoo and his response is always the same: “hehehehe”.

He takes the family teasing about his weird music taste, random gifts (Persian lemon, anyone?), Cina ah pek food choices, and “I must take you there, it’s a secret place” moments. He puts up with our dumb comments and jokes, and disinterest in what he does. He sponsors my mum, my sister and me, AND doesn’t complain we are doing Dharma work.

He doesn’t make us go on family trips with him. He doesn’t complain that we don’t spend time together. He doesn’t insist on family dinners. He doesn’t dictate that we should all stay at home with him. He doesn’t force us to get married, study things we don’t want to, or groom us to take over his company.

We do our own thing, and he does his. He gives us advice and if we don’t want to take it, he will gripe a little, more out of frustration that we’re usually about to make a mistake, then let us make the mistake anyway to learn for ourselves. And if it does go right, he congratulates us without feeling bad that he was wrong.

But I know he misses us. When I SMS, he calls back just to chat. Sometimes, he will call me then as soon as we finish talking, he will call my sister who is just next to me. Whenever I ask if he’s free for dinner or just to chill out, he’s always free. So on the rare occasions he does ask me for something, I try my best to accommodate him.

We couldn’t do what we do with such freedom without your quiet support so thank you for being as awesome as you are. Daddy, we love you!

At Kechara Sunday Service attending the Forest Retreat briefing #Buddhism #Spiritual
(Taken with Instagram)

At Kechara Sunday Service attending the Forest Retreat briefing #Buddhism #Spiritual

(Taken with Instagram)

Mahasiddha Ghantapa and the Great Flood, Anonymous (Tibetan), 18th century, pigments on cotton (Walters)

From http://blog.tsemtulku.com/tsem-tulku-rinpoche/buddhas-dharma/vajradhara-and-84-mahasiddhas.html
Gandrapa was a prince of Nalanda but renounced the throne to be a monk, and later, a yogin. In his travels he met the guru Darikapa and was initiated into the Samvara mandala. He then travelled to Pataliputra, where King Devapala, a pious man welcomed monks and yogins into his kingdom. The king however, had a troubled mind, he still felt he had not accumulated enough merit for his next rebirths despite being a devout man. When he heard of Ghantapa from his wife, the royal pair decided to invite the holy man as their priest, however, the envoy they sent returned bearing news that the yogin refused. The next day, the king went in person to the master, prostrating himself before Ghantapa, the king begged him to come to the palace, but Ghantapa refused again. Everyday, for 40 days the king returned to Ghantapa to repeat his invitation, and was refused everyday. Finally, the king’s pride was wounded and instead of pursuing their attempt to invite the yogin, he developed hatred for the holy man to the point they offered half of their kingdom to whoever was able to prove the yogin’s virtue and chastity as merely a sham.
Darima, out of greed, accepted the king’s challenge and set off to send her beautiful daughter to ensnare the monk. Much like the king, Darima visited the yogin everyday, prostrating to him for 9 days offering him nothing but devotion. On the 10th day, she begged him to allow her to be his patron during his summer monsoon retreat. Ghantapa refused, but Darima was persistent, returning again and again for a month. Finally, seeing no harm, Ghantapa agreed. When the rain came, the yogin retreated to a little hut Darima had constructed for him at the far edge of her property. Warily, the monk insisted only male servants bring him food, which Darima agreed. However, on the 15th day, she sent her daughter to the hut. Surprized, Ghantapa insisted the girl leave immediately, but it began to rain heavily, so the monk agreed to share his hut with the girl until the rain stopped. Unfortunately the rain continued until sunset, with the excuse of being afraid she would be mugged by thieves, the monk allowed her to sleep outside the hut. But during the night, she became frightened and began to beg for his protection. With a sigh of resignation, Ghantapa allowed her to come inside the hut.
The hut was very tiny. Inevitably, their bodies touched. Then their limbs intertwined. Before long, they had passed through the 4 levels of joy and traversed the path of liberation to its ultimate fulfillment. In 6 previous lives, this very girl was the cause of the monk’s downfall, but in this life, such defilement had long since dissolved, and he had gained the true path. In the morning, he asked the girl to remain with him and she agreed. They became yogin and consort, and because of her service to him for 6 lives, the defilements of Ghantapa’s consort’s mind were also purified. One year later, their child was born.
Darima never told any of this to the king, and finally at the 3rd year, when she thought the time was right, she informed the king. The king was overjoyed for the monk’s downfall and said he will visit the monk and the girl in 3 days time.
When they heard the news, the girl was very fearful. When Ghantapa asked if she wanted to stay and face them down, or leave Pataliputra, she begged him to flee with her, and he agreed. However, as they were leaving, they came face to face with the king and his followers. The king, looking down at the fleeing pair demanded answers for what he saw before him. The monk simply replied, “I’m carrying a jug of liquor, I have my son under my robe, and this is my consort.
When the king kept on repeating the accusations of what appeared to be Ghantapa’s fault, Ghantapa hurled both his son and the jug of liquor onto the ground. This so frightened the earth goddess that she trembled with fear. The ground gaped open and a geyser of water began to flood the entire space. The child was instantly transformed into a thunderbolt and the jug into a bell. Whereupon the yogin, bearing thunderbolt and bell, levitated with his consort into the sky, where they become the deities Samvara and Vajra Varahi joined in father-mother union.
The drowning people screamed, declaring they would take refuge in the master, but Ghantapa remained adamant in his Samadhi of immutable wrath. Suddenly, the Bodhisattva of Compassion appeared. Avalokitesvara placed his holy foot over the source of the flood and the water immediately flowed backward into the ground, and as if by magic, a stone image of the Bodhisattva appeared where his foot had trod. It remains there to this very day.
Everyone was saved. Prostrating themselves, they begged for forgiveness. Still hovering above the assemblage, Ghantapa said “Moral concepts practiced without understanding can be the greatest of obstacles to fulfilling the Bodhisattva’s vow of uncompromising compassion. Do not cultivate virtue and renounce vice. Rather, learn to accept all things as they arise. Penetrate the essence of each experience until you have achieved the one taste.”
At this, everyone was illuminated and their self-righteousness and petty prejudice vanished. Faith was born in the lotus of each heart. Ghantapa’s fame rang out to all the corners of the earth. Possessing the power and virtue of a Buddha, the yogin ascended into the Paradise of the Dakinis with his consort.

Mahasiddha Ghantapa and the Great Flood, Anonymous (Tibetan), 18th century, pigments on cotton (Walters)


From http://blog.tsemtulku.com/tsem-tulku-rinpoche/buddhas-dharma/vajradhara-and-84-mahasiddhas.html

Gandrapa was a prince of Nalanda but renounced the throne to be a monk, and later, a yogin. In his travels he met the guru Darikapa and was initiated into the Samvara mandala. He then travelled to Pataliputra, where King Devapala, a pious man welcomed monks and yogins into his kingdom. The king however, had a troubled mind, he still felt he had not accumulated enough merit for his next rebirths despite being a devout man. When he heard of Ghantapa from his wife, the royal pair decided to invite the holy man as their priest, however, the envoy they sent returned bearing news that the yogin refused. The next day, the king went in person to the master, prostrating himself before Ghantapa, the king begged him to come to the palace, but Ghantapa refused again. Everyday, for 40 days the king returned to Ghantapa to repeat his invitation, and was refused everyday. Finally, the king’s pride was wounded and instead of pursuing their attempt to invite the yogin, he developed hatred for the holy man to the point they offered half of their kingdom to whoever was able to prove the yogin’s virtue and chastity as merely a sham.

Darima, out of greed, accepted the king’s challenge and set off to send her beautiful daughter to ensnare the monk. Much like the king, Darima visited the yogin everyday, prostrating to him for 9 days offering him nothing but devotion. On the 10th day, she begged him to allow her to be his patron during his summer monsoon retreat. Ghantapa refused, but Darima was persistent, returning again and again for a month. Finally, seeing no harm, Ghantapa agreed. When the rain came, the yogin retreated to a little hut Darima had constructed for him at the far edge of her property. Warily, the monk insisted only male servants bring him food, which Darima agreed. However, on the 15th day, she sent her daughter to the hut. Surprized, Ghantapa insisted the girl leave immediately, but it began to rain heavily, so the monk agreed to share his hut with the girl until the rain stopped. Unfortunately the rain continued until sunset, with the excuse of being afraid she would be mugged by thieves, the monk allowed her to sleep outside the hut. But during the night, she became frightened and began to beg for his protection. With a sigh of resignation, Ghantapa allowed her to come inside the hut.

The hut was very tiny. Inevitably, their bodies touched. Then their limbs intertwined. Before long, they had passed through the 4 levels of joy and traversed the path of liberation to its ultimate fulfillment. In 6 previous lives, this very girl was the cause of the monk’s downfall, but in this life, such defilement had long since dissolved, and he had gained the true path. In the morning, he asked the girl to remain with him and she agreed. They became yogin and consort, and because of her service to him for 6 lives, the defilements of Ghantapa’s consort’s mind were also purified. One year later, their child was born.

Darima never told any of this to the king, and finally at the 3rd year, when she thought the time was right, she informed the king. The king was overjoyed for the monk’s downfall and said he will visit the monk and the girl in 3 days time.

When they heard the news, the girl was very fearful. When Ghantapa asked if she wanted to stay and face them down, or leave Pataliputra, she begged him to flee with her, and he agreed. However, as they were leaving, they came face to face with the king and his followers. The king, looking down at the fleeing pair demanded answers for what he saw before him. The monk simply replied, “I’m carrying a jug of liquor, I have my son under my robe, and this is my consort.

When the king kept on repeating the accusations of what appeared to be Ghantapa’s fault, Ghantapa hurled both his son and the jug of liquor onto the ground. This so frightened the earth goddess that she trembled with fear. The ground gaped open and a geyser of water began to flood the entire space. The child was instantly transformed into a thunderbolt and the jug into a bell. Whereupon the yogin, bearing thunderbolt and bell, levitated with his consort into the sky, where they become the deities Samvara and Vajra Varahi joined in father-mother union.

The drowning people screamed, declaring they would take refuge in the master, but Ghantapa remained adamant in his Samadhi of immutable wrath. Suddenly, the Bodhisattva of Compassion appeared. Avalokitesvara placed his holy foot over the source of the flood and the water immediately flowed backward into the ground, and as if by magic, a stone image of the Bodhisattva appeared where his foot had trod. It remains there to this very day.

Everyone was saved. Prostrating themselves, they begged for forgiveness. Still hovering above the assemblage, Ghantapa said “Moral concepts practiced without understanding can be the greatest of obstacles to fulfilling the Bodhisattva’s vow of uncompromising compassion. Do not cultivate virtue and renounce vice. Rather, learn to accept all things as they arise. Penetrate the essence of each experience until you have achieved the one taste.”

At this, everyone was illuminated and their self-righteousness and petty prejudice vanished. Faith was born in the lotus of each heart. Ghantapa’s fame rang out to all the corners of the earth. Possessing the power and virtue of a Buddha, the yogin ascended into the Paradise of the Dakinis with his consort.

Source: theshipthatflew

&#8220;If I look serious, then my music will be taken seriously,&#8221; say the indie hipsters of We Are Hunted.
But I still love you lot anyway &lt;3 thumbs up for the best music aggregator EVER.

“If I look serious, then my music will be taken seriously,” say the indie hipsters of We Are Hunted.

But I still love you lot anyway <3 thumbs up for the best music aggregator EVER.

  • 1950s lyrics: splishin and a-splashin, one time i was splishin and a-splashin. ooh, i was movin and a-groovin. yeah, i was splishin and a-splashin.
  • 1960s lyrics: he hit me and it felt like a kiss. he hit me and i knew he loved me. if he didn't care for me, i could have never made him mad. but he hit me and i was glad.
  • 1970s lyrics: my ding-a-ling, my ding-a-ling, i want to play with my ding-a-ling. my ding-a-ling, my ding-a-ling, i want to play with my ding-a-ling.
  • 2012 lyrics: i'm pimpin where i'm winnin, thats just how i’m chillin. i'm smokin grits and sellin chickens, corvette painted lemons.
  • EVERY DECADE HAS BAD LYRICS NOW GET OVER YOURSELVES YOU INSUFFERABLE DOUCHEBAGS
Source: ceramicplates