Dang Zang

A little while ago I made a brief entry on the theme of “There’s Nobody as Irish as O’Bama” after the successful American elections.

St Patrick’s day fell earlier this week, of course. Strong as my connection with Ireland is, I didn’t go out to join the jollity. In Ireland there is indeed plenty of merry-making, much of it alcohol-fuelled, but there is also a lot of church going, mass saying, visiting of family and friends, tea drinking, cake-nibbling, praying and so on – there is, in short, a balance. Here in ex-pat land (half the world it seems, though most of them are essentially just wannabee ex-pats) it tends to be little more than a booze-up with green trim.

However, as I was reciting the Mahamudra Lineage prayer that morning, as I have done (almost) every day since the early 1980s, I was blown away by the vision and realization that the 8th Karmapa too, Micky O’Dorje, was also to all intents and purposes Irish.

The Tibetans call him Mikyo Dorje, in case you weren’t sure. Above is the picture of him that hangs in my office.