If you haven’t had the pleasure of being in the Venerable Lama Losang’s presence you are missing out. I just love his spirit. He’s jovial and kind. He exudes lightness and compassion. He has a real twinkle in his eye reminiscent of Santa Claus. I feel so fortunate to have met him. 

Prior to Losang’s visit, I was feeling very discouraged about things in my life outside of the yoga studio. My 9-5 job was overwhelming and unpredictable. I had recently been battling a period of depression that left me feeling tired and hopeless. I was disconnected from life and myself. 

When I walked into the studio to find our lounge room missing, I was caught off guard. In its normal setup in the lobby was a bar-height table with a bright blue top. That’s it. “What is going on here?” I wondered. I had been so disconnected I had missed the announcements of the Venerable Lama Losang’s visit. 

The next morning, I walked into the studio early before class let out and already the energy in the building was heightened. The anticipation was palpable as students poured out of one of the studio rooms, into the lobby. The air was vibrating, I could feel it in my bones. I made my way into the open studio room, for my class, and as I sat, feeling grounded on my mat about to begin practice, I heard the distant chime of a singing bowl from the lobby. Everything outside our room fell quiet. Then there was chanting. And later on, a steady, rhythmic sound I had not heard before. 

When my class ended, I exited the room and stepped into the lobby, the source of the mysterious vibrating sound revealed itself in the metal instruments Venerable Lama Losang was using to create a sand mandala. I’d never seen anything like it. He was rubbing the two long and narrow metal cones together to disperse small amounts of sand onto the table. In the 75 minutes I was in class, he had already laid a blue sand circle, a black boar, and a red blob which eventually became a rooster. He was currently working on the bright green snake. I had never seen art so mesmerizing in sight and sound. I was hooked. I wanted to know more. I signed up for his Samatha Meditation workshop the next day. 

The following morning, I couldn’t wait to get back to the studio to learn more. When I walked in, the mandala was so much further along than the day before. There were more layers – both outward and upward. The colors had multiplied. The design had grown more intricate and elaborate. It was beautiful. People were gathered around admiring the work of beauty taking place in our sacred studio space. 

The meditation workshop was quickly beginning. I set up my bolster and blanket as I settled in with an open heart and childlike curiosity. Losang cozied into his chair at the front, wearing cozy wool socks and a blanket on his lap. The room fell silent in seated anticipation of what was to come. We were packed in like little sardines – I had never seen so many people in the room before. Losang began to share. 

“My mother was sad. Always crying. I wanted to know how to make her not sad.”

His emotion was tangible. My heart ached as I imagined this small, six-year-old boy wanting to know the solution to make his mother not feel sad anymore. At 11 he devoted his life by entering the monastery to become a monk. When I was 11, I was worried about my soccer game on Saturday or where we were having our sleepover that weekend. I wasn’t thinking of how to dedicate myself to a lifelong practice…of anything! 

I hung on to every word Losang shared. He had a measured way of speaking that included varying pauses that probably left our friends on Zoom wondering if their computers had frozen, but he was simply slowing down and contemplating what was coming next. I wish to have a tenth of that much patience and mindfulness when I speak. 

He spoke of suffering, meditation, and mindfulness. At one point he laughed to himself exclaiming, “Look at me speaking so seriously. And you all are so serious. Shake out your legs!” as his contagious laughter filled the room and everyone began wiggling their arms and legs around to loosen up. 

We resumed as he guided us through the gestures of one type of samatha meditation using alternate nostril breathing. 

“Watch me first, then follow.”

We all meditated with him, breathing in through the right nostril and out through the left, alternating sides. Next, we inhaled while raising our hands above our head, exhaling them to the crown of our head, then the third eye, and finally the heart. I had never used my arms and hands in meditation in this way outside of yoga asana. I usually just try to let my hands rest on my knees and not fidget. I really enjoyed having intentional movement in this way – it helped me to remain present and aware of my focus on the breath. 

He concluded the workshop with gratitude and a moving declaration on the importance of America in the world. These words seemed less planned than the rest, but they may have been some of the most impactful. They were a healthy dose of perspective pointing out that we are in a beautiful room, with walls and a roof, sitting on bolsters and blankets, when there are many others in pursuit of the same things we are, but with much less. My heart, again, ached. 

After the workshop, I approached the Venerable Lama to express gratitude. He was already speaking with one of the yoga teachers. He grabbed my hand and smiled. We all chatted. The yoga teacher asked about the Dalai Lama’s health, while I asked Losang if he had heard of the fictional book The Dalai Lama’s Cat. This goes to show where my journey into Buddhism currently stands! But he proceeded to share that the Dalai Lama did have a cat that he loved and lots of birds, who were fed all types of seeds. I was thrilled! At one point in the conversation, as I was sitting at his feet, he patted me on the head like a puppy and it was the most precious interaction. I wanted to sit there and talk to him for hours. I just knew I could learn so much more from him. I felt like he could see me, the real me. 

That night I replayed the live stream of the mandala being made on Breathe Together’s YouTube channel and googled this character of our sand artist, Losang Samten, only to discover how incredibly influential this man is in the world. He has lived a robust life, impacting many, with his talents, knowledge and, I’m sure, sense of humor. Losang was the first to create a sand mandala in the Western world in New York City in 1988. 

He was an attendant to the 14th Dalai Lama. He played a role in Kundun, a 1997 film by Martin Scorsese about the Dalai Lama. He’s an author. He runs a center of Buddhism in Philadelphia where he currently resides. He has traveled the world creating sand mandalas and spreading the teachings of Tibetan Buddhism to all who cross his path. I feel honored to have been one of them. 

When I returned to go to the studio the following day, I hoped Losang would be there working on his craft. I was fortunate enough to find him and Karma Tensum, an ambassador of Tibetan culture, as sole contributors to the mandala when I arrived, giving me the perfect opportunity to get a few one-on-one moments with Losang. He was hard at work when I approached, but as soon as he looked up and saw me, he cracked a big smile, “It’s you!” I’ve known this man for all but a day and he made me feel known. I asked if I could have a turn with the tools, traditionally known as chak-pur. He graciously passed them over after a quick lesson and I was off. I did my little bit and tried to pass them back, but he insisted, “Keep going,” as he used a foam brush to push in the edges of this black sand ring we were working on, to form a tight line around the latest ring of the mandala. This border would be the outermost border of the design. I felt so honored that I got to be a part of its creation and to stand next to a man whose soul is on fire for humankind.