Dear friends,
I would like to start by expressing my deepest gratitude to all of you for continuously supporting me on my path and in my humble activity. Whatever sparks of mindfulness I have been able to ignite in the dullness of my ignorant mind, and whatever benefit came about from my translating and teaching, could only arise in interdependence that includes all of you. I can only hope and pray that going forward, the positive aspects of this interdependence will be strengthened and the negative ones removed.
There will, however, be a large change for me in all of it from today onwards. Today, August 17 — on the auspicious anniversary of Buton Richen Drup (the compiler of the Tibetan Buddhist canon) — I have returned my monastic vows after exactly 9 years and 5 months of monastic training. That means that from here onwards, I am continuing my path in the role of a lay practitioner, translator, and instructor.
I can’t say I am telling you this with a “heavy heart”, but neither would it be fair to say it’s all light and bliss. A momentous decision of this caliber is inevitably accompanied by a lot of mixed emotions. Its root usually lies in the attempts to find compatibility between the way one feels inside and the way one looks on the outside.
Why do people return their monastic vows?
Multiple answers exist, since every situation is different. Just in 2022, I’ve seen multiple colleagues take this step, all in their own unique ways.
In general, it happens because we are all trying to determine how we want to be supported by the world around us and what it is exactly that we want to offer back. Some people want to serve in a different capacity; some want to get married; some start taking care of their elderly relatives, or working a regular job, and then see a change in their life perspective. In some traditions—for example, in Thailand—monastic precepts are often taken only for a period of time, either earlier in one’s life or to create the merit for a deceased relative. Of course, some people realise they want to do something completely different with their lives altogether.
Part of my own decision is exploring the topic of how I want to be held in terms of my own hedonic (or outer) wellbeing; another large part is exploring what I can offer to other beings and what would be the form most appropriate for me to do that.
Do people continue doing the same Dharma work after disrobing? Is that permissible?
One’s professional skills do not change due to returning one’s precepts, and neither does one’s level of knowledge. Whether one wants to continue doing the same work depends on one’s decisions and the type of work in question.
For continuing the work of translating and offering basic practice instructions—my specialty—there is no shortage of examples from both recent and more distant past. Some of my own primary teacher and mentors, along with the teachers I deeply respect—Tsoknyi Rinpoche, Jetsun Chime Luding, Dzogchen Ponlop Rinpoche, Tenzin Wangyal Rinpoche, Gyatrul Rinpoche, Alan Wallace, Robert Thurman and others—are former monastics. Examples from slightly more distant past would, of course, include such luminaries as Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche, Khyentse Chokyi Lodro, Chagdud Tulku Rinpoche and even the great and exceptional Khunu Lama Tenzin Gyaltsen (who, according to his extended biography, was a novice monastic earlier in his life).
The point of doing these types of work—teaching, translating, organising—is not whether one is a monastic; it’s whether one’s work is imbued with growing knowledge and attempts to continue becoming more mindful, even when we come across our human fallibility again and again. Part of that is seeing the dirt; another part is seeing the radiance of our Buddha nature. Trying to reconcile the mud and the lotus adds humility to the mix—one reason why I’ve never seen any real teacher, whether lay or monastic, claim that they have realised the fullness of the Dharma. It’s about incremental change and continuous attempts.
Will you continue doing the same types of work?
Yes: I will continue translating and interpreting in the Tibetan Buddhist context, and offering review classes, when appropriate. I will be involved in the book publishing business. I will continue creating audio and video content that might support people in their practice, whether Buddhist or secular.
I will also continue offering courses in the different modalities I have a connection to, including Cultivating Emotional Balance (CEB), and increasingly pursue the main reason I am now wearing green color—the interdisciplinary field of EcoDharma. That one, of course, lies at the intersection of our contemplative life, natural beauty, and the urgency of protecting the natural world on the basis of truly understanding interdependence.
Over these years, I have offered a very limited number of 1-on-1 sessions for practitioners who want to fine-tune their practice. That part of my work might also emerge more strongly as time permits; however, when I have to choose, I would prefer to work with groups since the number of people I can help at the same time is greater in group classes.
Another thing I’ve had to do as a monk is offer advice on corporate cultural transformation, usually around the topics of genuine wellbeing, mindfulness, or emotional balance. These types of work are also something I’m happy to pursue.
Since not much is changing about my work, I am still, at the moment, essentially a “free artist”: someone offering content, classes, practice sessions, and so on when the interest or the need arises and if/when the invitations come. As such, I am still gratefully accepting cups of tea (which, beyond actual tea, usually translate into food, books, and sometimes work tools).
Will you continue using the same name?
As a writer, translator, and content creator, I decided to maintain the continuity of authorship attribution by continuing to use my current name. That is not something unique to me; many former monastics in the English-speaking world retain their full name or at least parts of it (like my dear Dharma friend Tashi Mannox). Of course, no longer being a monk, I am in no way “Venerable” (not that anything about me personally ever made me venerable anyway)–instead, I’ll be using “Michael” as my first name, bringing the overall combo up to “Michael Lobsang Tenpa”.
Some people might prefer to continue using “Lobsang” or “Tenpa” (there was always difference in what different people found easier to pronounce), whereas some would simply go for “Michael”. I’m happy with any of these options—as such, they would not be deadnaming (which is often a problem when both ordaining and disrobing).
A somewhat comical additional note: what’s a good way to refer to me when talking to others? (Apart from “flop”, of course). If before you said things like “I’m listening to meditations from this Buddhist monk who…”, good alternatives would be saying “from this Buddhist translator”, “from this Buddhist meditation instructor” or even “this Eco-mindfulness instructor”.
A penultimate note, even more comical: despite wearing green shirts and green shorts, I would ask you to not try and set me up with anyone, and to not hit on me, either. For the first few years or decades, I’ll be too busy trying to do pushups.
A serious final note: I understand that this step might be disappointing for some people and absolutely “nothing special” for others. While acknowledging the potential impact, I can only continue hoping that my future work—largely similar in nature, but with a bit more greenery to it—will continue to bring some benefit, in the same way I’ve benefitted by some many who have gone before.
These last 9 years have been incredibly special; out of those, I have cumulatively spent 1 year in retreat and offered service and studied for the remaining 8. There were moments of frustration and moments of great joy, along with moments of intense learning. That learning now continues in greener outfits and with a tiny bit more hair.
Always grateful for the connection with all of you,
Lobsang
For the last talk I gave as a monastic, check out this video: