Fourth Movement.


Tolerance clears off


Uprightness arrives.



The old man caresses the golden book with his palms. He looks for its warmth, its life. He looks for his own life. Now it is his turn to feel the Envoys of the Death coming close to him. They are ready to come and tap him on the shoulder and say the formula of the Universe: « Come, it is your Time ».

He looks for himself now. He has only this Book to help him. He wants to enter it, again and again and follow the path that his son of before has traced for his old friend the Rimpoche.

Now the path is open in the Universe. It is printed. One has to find its trace and he tries to awaken it by his blow pushing the words in the Universe.



Voyage in the Death.


There is effervescence in the monastery. The monks are agitating, speaking, discussing, while making me big smiles… But it is obvious that they have other preoccupations behind the skull.


    - Hello, Uncle!

    - Good morning, my young friend.


He stands, quiet in front of the window, observing the unaccustomed agitation in the central courtyard.


    - I gave your third energetic law the finger, he says smiling at me… And boy!... it makes an immediate effect !


I come to his side and look in the courtyard at the groups of monks who make and unmake themselves at the rhythm of the words… A little souk !

    - I have only told them that I had no more time to care of them…

    - Only !

    - Yes… Only.

   - You have touched their need for security, I say laughing… Look at them rushing about looking for another master to lean on !

    - Yes… I notice, and I must say, with some pain… I thought they were more mature.

    - They are looking for another tree to graft on to, I say.

   - Yes… It is clear that they are trying to organize my succession.

    - You will be forgotten quickly, Uncle, I say, quizzical.

    - Interesting! he says with his calm voice that would not disturb the air.


He still remains in contemplation of his monks and he turns to me.

    - It is not easy to face cretain facts… That however one knows in his head… But when one perceives them in the flesh, it is another reality, he pronounces always so calm.

     - And what does your body see, I asked ?

    - That I am a provider of « goods »… Just a provider… A fountain… That I was always that and nothing else !

    - Yes… You have settled into the role of Father, I say with my voice not wanting to change the air and its movement either.

    - Was I the one who settled into this role… or the others who put me in it ?

    - Interesting ! I say looking at him.


He has the smooth and fat face of the Tibetans who have done so many sitting practices and have not used the body for what it could give them.

But his eyes are really special. I have never met a man with such gentle eyes !

It is his eyes that I love. It is in them that I penetrate to touch his heart that I feel is huge, filled with the Force of Compassion to help the human find his reality.

« A Great One » this little plump man with his belly, his long hair smoothed on his skull and finished in a bun.


     - Why do you say « interesting ! » ? he asks.

    - Because you touch there one of the essential points of the energetic exchanges between the men, I say.

     - You can tell me more, he asks leaning on the window bar.


This morning, there is joy in his body and he takes pleasure in inhaling the air and hearing the noises of the street so close.


    - Who is pulling the strings of the puppet ? I say.


He understands quickly.

    - You mean that there is the one who pulls and the one who pushes ?

    - Yes… A curious way of saying… but it is possible to express it that way, I say.

   - It is a way of our house… We say that the Father pulls and the Mother pushes… he says with his voice that was entering more and more a deep calm, like a voice that doesn’t speak… A voice that only lets escape a few sounds that form words capable of being captured by the brain.


He lets his weight rest on the wooden bar. 

    - Do you mean that I might maybe not have put myself in this position of Father if I had not been pushed by the Mother ? he asks.

    - Maybe, I say…

    - You can tell me more ?

   - You must then examine with an extreme attention what is the Father and what is the Mother, I say, as calm in my words as his breath that is seeking a new blow in the air of this soft morning of the valley of Katmandu.


He remains with himself, as if he had not heard me. He also stays with his monks who create and break up groups with an astonishing rapidity. A great agitation holds the body.


    - The Mother serves the soup to each one, he says gently… But the Father fills the tureen, he finishes.

Now there is sadness in his heart.

He understands the manipulation between the two actions. One needs the other to exist. He confirms it this by his words : 

    - The Mother wears out the Father… But without the Mother, the Father is useless !

    - For the « men » I say in response.


Then I surprise him and he misses a few breaths.

    - I am no longer following you, my friend.

    - Your body is understanding for you, I say.


His gaze still wanders around his monks. 

    - I believe that I have not lived enough with the body… I am certain of it now !… So much time wasted !

    - Yes… The time is not the friend of the man, I say.

   - Yet so little was needed !… to provoke the body… To say quite simply that I do not have enough time to care of them !… And everything is destroyed… and everything is rebuilt differently…

     - Yes, I say…

     - Yet we know in our teachings that everything is an illusion !

     - Yes, I say… But it is in your head… You don’t put your bodies in these spaces-time of impermanence, I say.

    - Yes… I understand now… We organize a permanence by preaching impermanence, right ?

     - Yes… But it is normal, I say.

     - Why ?

   - Without a very great vigilance of every moment, one is always recovered in spaces of security, I say.

    - And what is the Nature of this vigilance ? ask his slow words that have trouble passing his lips.

    - The Uprightness, I say.


His gentle eyes follow his monks in the goodness of his heart. He understands, he knows their difficulty in not seeking the security of the future.

By his presence so strong, he has besides strengthened them in this attitude of the son.


    - Thank you, my Great very young friend, he says… I have a cope that leaves my shoulders and my heart is in joy… even if sadness revolves around me, say his words always so slow.

    - The truth liberates, I say.

    - Yes… Thank you.


I let the time take a little possession of the space and I ask : 

    - Tell me a little bit about this sadness « that is revolving around you ».

    - Why ?

    - Speak… and let the words flow from your throat without worrying about your tongue, I say.

    - It is you the Master, he says smiling.


His eyes are now on me.

    - Yes, it is me the Master, I say.

    - I am very happy about it, his eyes tell me… I can rest.

    - If you rest, you are dead, I say.

    - No… I rest on you so that I can enter me and make a great journey, his words say sliding on the air that does not move.

It is a « Great One »!


The time passes again and he asks me as a favor: 

    - I would like to walk around the Stûpa with you.

    - But it is necessary to walk nearly half a kilometer to pass the Gates !

    - It has been so long since I moved from my bed ! 


His body wants to touch real life. It is clear !

    - Okay, I say… I organize that with your monks because you are too weak to make the path on foot.

    - Thank you.


So here we go by car.

Getting the old man down from his floor of the monastery was not easy. He is really weak and he needs two monks to support him under the armpits and another one in the back just in case… and another one in front just in case…

But in short, we arrive at the Gates.

Must be said that the Tibetans are people who do not know what silence is and « one » await us.

Each one will try of his tiny little hand or his head to receive a touch of the old man !

They open the eyes to notice the presence of a White man whiter than white next to the chap Holiness and who in addition seems the main character of the group after him !

But slowly, because the old man has the habit of these free-for-all, we arrive against the wall of the Stûpa that the old man touches of the flat of his hand with a rapture in his eyes that makes good to my heart.

A man who loves!


Then, he leans on my arm and pushes back his monks who remain at two meters, ready to rush if the old man lost his balance. They thus push back the Tibetans who would like to touch the Holiness… Which suits us both. 

Then he makes a request that surprises me unexpectedly.

  - Give me some juice, my great friend… I think I have overestimated my strength.


I put my hand on his belly while supporting him under the armpit.

The Tibetans laugh because they like to laugh when they don’t understand what is going on… It is a good nature, as I told you !

Also they laugh when they see me caressing the Holiness’s belly with my flat hand and the old man smiling of contentment like the baby massaged by his mother.

So we continue our full round, slowly and the old man is delighted. He is all smiles and everyone takes his smiles for him according to the formula that you know perfect « one is never better served than by oneself ».


After the first round, he needs to rest his legs and we bring him a seat, then a tea and small cakes…

All this in the street in front of the steps of the Stupa, which is very Tibetan.

Besides a lot of people sit on the ground, making a half circle in front of us waiting for an essential Teaching or a particular practice. This too is very Tibetan, this way of occupying the space and not making a fuss.

Of course I am not forgotten in the distribution of the chairs, tea and small cakes.


The Tibetans who are always amazed by every new thing, take pictures and also come to touch my trousers, just to take a suck of the Divine Force that I must necessarily carry in me to be seated at the same level as the Holiness and to take tea with him, like two buddies at the terrace of the café…

By the way, as a café, there are the Westerners who shoot with their zoom lens from the terrace of the highest café that has the sweet name of « Direct View » or something like that.

A big Nyingma boss with a hefty man like me and his sixty kilos, it is a big surprise and they are perhaps wondering if I am not the one who is going to take the succession of the old man, because that one is still in the vagueness.

Besides when people ask about me, the monks around us look like great initiates and say «This is the White Lama ».


So they do not know very well what it is to wash whiter than white because this famous detergent has not yet reached them, who besides only wash twice a year, because to remove the layer of butter that they spread on the face, just to protect themselves from the sun… but me, I think it is a way to protect oneself from flies!… they would already need a package of whiter than white detergent and at the price of the European products, there is no way they invest in it… They have something else better to do and for the moment : for example pictures of the two of us sipping our tea as a great souvenir for their evenings by the fire, sipping their Chan, their personal alcohol, which basically, is not disgusting… It is like cider.


As they are pure Tibetans, it is of course black tea with rancid butter of yak and I have to use all the controls I have of my body to keep smiling and prevent my stomach from saying « No, thank you ! ».

But the cakes are great !… Although fat… But here, they know the formula « more fat than fat » and if you want to keep your figure, go to India instead.


It is after his third cup and his two cakes and his dozens touches on the heads that are put under his hands, that the Rimpo throws to me:

    - This sadness is not mine.


Short and brief !… But it goes straight to the heart because he has touched the target of the Dignity. He has found it, he has examined it, he has felt, then understood. Afterwards it is only the words that built themselves under the impulse of the truth in action.

This is a « Great One ! ».


    - So you can tell me where it comes from ? I say.

    - No… But I can say that it does not come from me.

    - Explain better, I say.

   - It has no connection with my emotional… Just a « state » that I decode with my body, but nothing from me, nothing to me… and I would even say, nothing « human ».

    - Nothing « human »… What makes you say that ?

   - This sadness has no bond with what the human makes…  at whatever level, he says articulating the words gently.

    - At all the levels ?


The old man is beginning to fascinate me. So I push him.

   - Yes… Even at the level of our practices, I do not know this kind of sadness, he continues with his soft words that those around try to catch with round eyes.


I told you well that it is a Great One who is not afraid to look : 


    - Even at the level of your practices ?… Hey, Uncle… Are you telling me that your practices are « human » constructions ?

    - I am not a complete idiot ! He says giving me his so soft eyes…

    - Ah ! I say.


Then he takes another cup that a wrinkled old woman holds out between her palms… and he also takes a small cake from another one…


Then he continues with his so soft eyes.

    - One is not a Nyingma Grand Master if one has not understood what comes from Guru Rimpoche and what is built by man as secondary tools, he continues in his soft words that nobody understands around us while they even try to place their ears in front of our mouth.


The monks try to do the Order Service but the people stick their tongue out at them, a Tibetan method to let you know direct that you are not a beautiful person and that they shit on your face.


    - It is a sadness that comes from elsewhere… from another Dimension, he resumes again when his mouth is empty… What is not the popular Tibetan way because they do everything at the same time and thank you the splutterings !

    - Here ! I say.

   - You are provoking me… Because I am well aware that without your hand on my belly to send me « your juice », I would never have been able to perceive and understand that…

    - Well, well ! I say.

    - I am not a complete idiot ! He says… And insensitive.

    - Well, well, I continue on ma way.


He retakes a cup of tea, then he says :

    - Why do you think I did not answer your question in the room… your question about my sadness ?

    - Because you could not, I say quietly by wolfing down a new cake that is not disgusting.

    - Well, well !… You knew that ?… Why ?

    - It is a question of energetic pressure in the body, I say.

    - Explain !

   - The body has all the decoders it needs, but they are machines that need fuel… You didn’t have enough fuel to make start these tools of lucidity.

   - And that’s what you gave me by injecting me with « your juice ».

   - Right, Grandpa, I say by wolfing down another cake that is really good… You can see in it the heart of the one who made it.


He took again a cup of tea… Because for the cupcakes he has filled up.


    - When I asked you to give me « your juice », these words came out of my mouth all by themselves. Nothing indicate me before that they were coming… I was the first to be surprised, he says.

    - Normal, I say.

    - What is normal ?

    - It is the Wisdom in the search of the Wisdom and She organizes Herself the space She needs to take Her place.

    - So we have nothing to do ?

   - No, nothing… Or if !… To leave the place and not to intervene, I say.


There, the old man is touched. He is courageous and he goes to the bottom of the hole without fear :

    - You speak about « juice »… But it is a question of vibration, isn't it ?… Of « quality » of vibration ? he insists.

    - Yes, I say.

   - And me, as « Holiness » as I am, I am not able to produce this « quality » that allows me to understand « now », right ?

    - It is that, I say.


He must swallow one more cup because he is dripping and the monks are worried.

But his courage did not run away with his sweat.


Then he asks :

    - That’s why I have never perceived this sadness before, right ?

    - Yes.

    - So that means that all my practices don’t allow me to put into action these « tools » that you are talking about and that I have in my body ?

    - Yes.

    - So that means I have wasted my time !

   - Yes, in one sense… No, in the other, I say between two mouthfuls of the guy who is barely concerned with the old man’s chitchat that everyone around would like to have in the ears.

    - Why « yes »?

    - You have abandoned the Uprightness of Guru Rimpoche, I say.

    - Why « no »? he continues.

    - You have made the « Father ».


He remains for a moment with his mouth open and a monk worries.


     - Shit!… I understand the link between the « yes » and the « no » !

    - It is well, I say by taking again a cake to the point that I make the wonderment of the big shepherdesses in front of me laughing sincerely and at the same time the worry of the monks who are wondering whether they nourish me enough at the monastery.

    - It is then your word that you have pronounced twice in two days and that has stirred my guts all those two nights when I cannot sleep.

    - Which one?… Although I know it, but I’m playing dumb because I have to get his juice out by provoking his body.

    - Compassion ! he articulates on each syllable.

    - Right, I say.


He closes the mouth, which does not suit the flies, then he says:

    - Do you want please help me to go and see that closer ?

    - Yes, tonight, after dinner.

    - Thank you…


A long moment passes then he says :

    - Now I would like to go home and rest.


I like that… I was getting tired of the cupcakes and of playing the « White Lama ».


In the evening I take a little walk around the Stupa and I go back to the monastery.

The Rimpoche is ready, lying on his bed, a blanket on him.


    - I have slept like a deaf person, he says when I arrive in his room… This little visit to the Stûpa was wonderful. I felt myself alive again.


His words always flow gently from his half-open lips. He never loses the thread of the reasons of my presence here and he asks if I am ready for the next operation.


    - Not being ready is already a beginning of death, I say.

    - With you, one always has to be at the top level, he laughs… But I like it !

    - Why ? I ask.

   - All my life I was the one who pushed everyone to put things in order in the monasteries which end up confusing everything… body, mind, spirituality and all the whole mess that is then put in place.

    - So you have always fought ? I ask.

    - Always, he says… But isn't that the role of the Master ?

    - I have already heard that somewhere, I laugh.


He lets a few breaths pass.


    - I have heard that there was a great nun, in your country, who exclaimed in anger in her monastery « I wonder what some girls are doing here ! ».

    - Yes… Therese of Avila… A Carmelite… So what ?

    - I had the same life and I wondered what some monks were doing in my monasteries.

    - So ?

   - I have spent more than half of my time putting order these places I was in charge of and reminding them of what a monk is and what a monastery is.

    - You became exhausted ?


He still takes his time and looks at me with his soft eyes that are like lakes in which you would like to bathe.


    - No… I had fun, he says following the vibrations his words made in me.


These words are a provocation in a spiritual system: « to have fun ! ».

I smile and he relaxes. He has tought that perhaps I would not understand, because in his words are contained all the beauty and the kindness of the World.


    - You can’t be a true Master if you do not have a lot of Earth in your energetic structure… I know, I say.

    - I don’t know what you call an « energetic structure », but it is clear that you cannot be a true conductor of consciousness if you do not love the men… which perhaps is what you call « the Earth ».

    - Yes… Possible to say it that way, I say.

   - So, when you have Earth, as you say, to repeat and repeat again and always repeat, is not a difficulty… It is even a help, he says gently with his soft words.


I leave him to his words and his rhythm because he needs my silence to say his sounds that he could never express because he could not explain this to his monks.

A Master must grumble and grumble again making those who listen to him believe that it is a labor, a pain to always say the same thing… For we must tell them that their so neglected attitude is an insult and a suffering for Dignity… and in the first of all for the Master who is his representative and his Carrier of Force to them.

Thus, perhaps one day touched by the constant wounding they do on the one who loves them and helps them, they will seek not to wound the Order of the Universe and thus enter into an attitude that will bring them the Force of this Universe because this one will recognized itself in them and will nourish them with its Power and its Intelligence.


Then the Master cannot tell them that happiness is in him to always have to repeat, because this allows him to always look straight at the Target of the Perfection of the Creation and to look for the most appropriate arrow to go straight to the Heart and vibrate in the Divine space that then enjoys it.

That he cannot say it !


Then he is always making believe what is not and he is alone in his happiness to have to always relaunch his attention and touch the divine Target… because all alone he could do like the others : fall asleep on his laurels.

And the laurels take the dust and one does not realize it.

When one loses vigilance, one no longer touches the Target. One becomes an organizer of the consequences of the previous touches… But one does not touch anymore !


Also the Master needs his lazy and messy students to go even deeper into the Target and find the most harmonious and profound tools to act… because the answer is already contained in the question.

    - Intense question, intense answer, he smiles.

He put in words the vibrations of my body and he gives his answer. It is a « Great One! »

    - They helped me a lot to enter even deeper into what was already made by the Creation and that I could discover through them…

    - You thank them ?

    - Yes… Intensely…

    - I know another one, with a goatee, who always reminds us that we need the others, I say.


He lets go his soft eyes in the clouds. Then he says :

     - I am happy with my monks… and all the others, the laity who follow me… I was happy…

     - Yes… I know that.

    - But you, you are not happy with the men, he says bringing his soft eyes on my eyes…


I smile and do not help him. It’s up to him to find the answer.

    - Because you do not have Earth, he says.

I let him go.

    - Because it is not the Men that you love, he continues.

I let him come half-closed eyes.

    - What you love, it is the Force of Life !… So you are only interested in Her.

I let him come to his own conclusion.

    - And you love only the man who helps this Force of Life to create and unfold on this Earth of the Men…


He looks at me with a smile. He did not perceive any vibration in me while he was unrolling his words. This surprised him and he worries about it.

    - Am I say talking nonsense about you, my Great and very young friend ?

I let the words come and they flow from my lips : 

   - I do not only help this Force of Life to create and unfold on the Earth of the Men, I say.

    - Yes… Go further, please my friend.

    - There is further than this « Earth of the Men » I say.

    - You also help further!… So Man is only at the end of the chain, isn't he ?

    - Yes… The last active link, I say…

    - But there is further than him… Maybe further than this Universe, he says, the eyes still in the clouds.

     - Yes… Even further than all that…

     - And you help « That », don't you ?

     - We can say it like that, I say… But these are words and they do not carry the reality of the Magic of the Creation… And beyond the Creation…

     - Beyond the Creation ?

    - Yes… There is something else beyond what is created, I say gently without wanting to move me too the air between us.


The time resumed again its silence and he says : 

    - It is in this understanding that the word of « Compassion » takes all its place, isn't it ?

    - Yes, I say… You understand well.


The breath was deep inside him.

During all these words, my hand was resting on his chest. I was projecting my Force of Life. His breath became lighter and lighter and it was happiness for him because he had difficulty breathing for such a long time !


He said that he was happy with the men because he is a good man. But his body gave another message. His lungs always slowed down and suffering, his asthma, said the sadness that invaded him step after step, action after action.

He was a great propagator of the Tibetan Force. He has given essential teachings many times, here, in Nepal, in India, but also at the end of the earth, in Europe… And beyond the seas, in America… He has given a lot ! But he did not receive a lot.

One has adored him, one has made him a « Saint », one has bowed down to him… But one has not shown him a true fruit of his teachings. And the only true fruit is to be a free man and a servant of the Force of Life.


So when the pain is not rewarded in the Dimension in which it was given, the suffering is there. The sadness is there and it is the sadness of the Creation. It is not his own sadness.

That, he perceived it well this morning when he was turning with me around the Stupa.

But his body has accumulated the sadness of the failure, because the imperfect success is always a failure because it is established in a Dimension that was not that of the Gift.

So this sadness is stored and accumulated in the lungs and the lungs testify to the reality of the facts through their pain.

He has very sick lungs and I have to be careful to load him very gently into his chest so as not to awaken his pain.

I know that he suffers in his bronchi when I put the heart in compression. But he does not say it. He has become accustomed to being alone with his suffering and not putting it on the others.


    - The others have enough burden on their shoulders, he says gently.


Again he put words on my breaths. It is a « Great One ».


    - I am leaving, he says… I am joining the same Power of Life, he says… I feel Guru Rimpoche in every cell of my body !…


His breaths are slowing down.

    - I am in his Power and everything is clear and strong… Really very strong, he says… I am even surprised by this tonicity… I am not used to feel it like this !

    - It is a just matter of depth, I say.

    - You mean Guru Rinpoche is a « space » ?

    - Yes… You can say it like that… You know « everything » is a « space ».


The time passes and I don’t slow it down.


    - It is huge !… What a power of action !

    - Of action ?

   - Yes… That, I had always felt… Guru Rimpoche was a Force of action… Now it is dazzlingly clear !


He whispers soft words and I put my ear against the warm lips.

    - When I asked the question « What is compassion ? » he laughed his gits out !

    - Ah, yes !

    - So I asked « Why ? ».

    - So ?

    - He has shown me the great marsh in which the man is sinking and he stirred up stinking water with his stick.

    - Then ?

    - He hit a black mass that has screamed.

    - Then ?

   - He has obliged it to confess that it is the Force to do oneself harm and that it nourishes on the man.

    - Ah, yes!

    - Then he has shown me one of the creations of this Force in order to alienate the man in his Dimension… It is the compassion ! … It was created by him !… To protect himself !… To protect his own creations !… It is terrible !

    - Why ? I say.


He lets the breath calm down in his lungs.

    - But our whole Tradition leans on the « Compassion »!


The rhythm becomes more peaceful in him again and I tell him :

    - Don’t jump to hasty conclusions.

    - What do you want me to understand ?

    - Take a better look… And ask your Guru Rimpoche to give you a hand.

    - A hand ! he smiles… from him ?

    - It is his job, I say.


He has a hard time taking in my last words. I treat his Guru like a neighbourhood worker who is accountable. Also, even though he likes me and trusts me, he has just taken a thump in the trunk and he is having trouble digesting it. Also I still have to give him some time to recover.


    - He makes me look higher than the marsh. Above there are lights and Forces of life.

    - Yes ?

    - There is an exact correspondence between this Heaven and the marsh !

    - Yes ? 

    - The marsh is a perfect copy of the Heaven above… You could be mistaken !

    - Yes ?

    - In this Heaven he shows me a very luminous dark green Force… It is that of the compassion in action !… I recognize her… We call her Tara !

    - Among the Christians, we give her the name of « the Virgin and the child »… It is the same one, I say…

    - What do you want to say ?

    - Nothing, continue… So, what does he give you like teaching your Guru ?


The time still holds its grip.


    - He shows me the real Force and the copy…

    - Yes ?

    - He tells me to touch them and to feel in my body.

    - Yes ?


He holds his hands out in front of him. He touches. He shivers, he sweats, he suffocates, he laughs.

    - I touched them both, he says… It is clear !

    - Yes ?

   - That of the true Force of Heaven, there is joy, and an extreme vigour… Tara is a warrior ready to spring at the slightest provocation and subdue the boldest demons !

    - Yes ?

   - And the other one, the copy, she calms down, she temporizes, she explains, she appeals to the heart and to the difficulty of the others…

    - And then ?

  - Then ?… It is very clear… The more we touch this copy, the more our enthusiasm to create decreases and the more we are in conciliations.

    - You mean there is no conciliation with the True Force, as you call it ?

    - No… None !… Impossible !… You go straight in your dignity or she cuts you in two ! … No half measure !

    - You mean there is no calculation ?

    - That’s right ! … No calculation… Always straight !

    - And what else do you see and understand ?


He took back his time of the breaths he needed.


    - These are two Dimensions that do not merge, that do not mix… One is strong and without flaws… The other is constant arrangements…

    - Is that all ?

   - No… One loves the Force of Life and defends it… The other looks for arrangements and defends man’s personal creations, even against the Force of Life.

    - And what else ?

   - What else ?… When you are with the Heaven, you receive an enormous Power that gives you the rightness of action… When you are with the marsh, you become soft and compassionate.


He raised this hand asking again for his time.


Then he says after long minutes :

     - I understand even better your third energetic law… Radiate on you what you look at and you are penetrated !

     - And ?

    - Guru Rimpoche tells me that the Force of Compassion has never existed by itself… And that I do not understand and his look is sad… You can help me ?

    - No !… It is up to you to see directly. I am not a tape recorder.


He raises his hand again.

    - He caresses my head and he says to me « Later… You are not ready yet »… Then he goes away and I remain alone with the Force of Compassion of Heaven who takes me in her arms and I feel cleansed of everything… I have no pain anywhere… What a power !



The old man stopped reading. His friend was tired. He had to let him rest. He will go with him in the dreams of this other Dimension that his son of before has opened.

When his son fulfilled this mission, and when he returned, the old man had perceived a change in him. He loved less the others.

He had then pushed him more into the compassion and support. He had pushed him powerfully to continue to help this Anne of Switzerland while his whole body was refusing and that he said to him: « She is under her mother’s control ! Her whole emotional system is controlled by this relationship ».


Now he understands in his body that he had not then entered deeply enough this Dimension of the Knowledge that kills…

His son was greater than him. He knew it. He knows it now even more… And he needs him !

To have pushed him into this support for Anne now seems to him a paltry action. He has pushed him to go and help the marsh, to have compassion for him !


And now that he is facing his death, it is another Force that he needs and this Force is no longer there because the body that carried it was killed.

What a derision the decisions when one is in the defense of the marsh !…


He could no longer ensure the destiny of the Shin Family… He no longer believed in his action. He will organize his succession… and lose his dream of having one of his sons as his successor.

His two sons were greater than him. Their place was not in the place that was his… But this he understands it only now.

Tomorrow he will talk to Hiro.