Shambhala is a Buddhist community, based mostly in the US and Canada but all over the world, founded by Chogyam Trungpa and until rather recently led by his son, Sakyong Mipham. A few years ago the Sakyong and at least two students were exposed during #metoo for alleged sexual assault, and the community—devoted to enlightened society and now finding itself in the opposite corner—nearly drowned in low morale, self recrimination, anger, guilt, and confusion.

The question: “where do we go from here?, if anywhere?” is at hand.

Can Shambhala go forward—as Kripalu Yoga Center managed to do once, after a painful founding scandal—to become a model of ethics, equity and real diversity on staff and in programs, successful finances, and mission…all?

Where does Shambhala, now independent, go from Here?

The Buddha advised not too tight, not too loose.

That sounds nice, but our minds want to fixate and solidify on one or the other. As Buddhist communities, as Buddhist teachers, as Buddhist students, as humans beings…we want ethics, so we give up joy. Don’t be full of yourself!, we cry, but throw celebration out with the bathwater.

The next day, as Buddhist students, or teachers, or communities, we fixate instead on: we want career, we want success, we want full programs, we want to be in the best community, we want to feel the warmth of a full ego…so we give up ethics. And nothing is wrong with feeling success or joy! But we toss out the requisite humility to remember that you are human, and I am human, and being a teacher or wannabe guru doesn’t change that.

What the hell am I talking about, really, here?

Shambhala. We’re at an intersection, these days, between a future of offering vital teachings to this world, of repaying the gift we’ve all been given…and a future where Shambhala dies, probably in 5 or 10 years. Already parts of it have died, and some have celebrated this death with joy born of anger.

Shambhala is, more or less, the Buddhist community I grew up in—and one that I have always criticized, both sharply and fairly (I hope), and one that I have always loved and appreciated, for it has given me meditation and dear friends and teachings, too. Shambhala—once noble and golden and uplifted, has gone through scandal, self-recrimination and a healthy though vicious exposing of its teacher and several students, through fire and the ongoing struggle to fundraise in a climate better suited for collapse.

And, these days, it is in easier to feel awful about Shambhala, to insult it, than it is to pick up the broken pieces and mend our meditation path with worn out tools. Criticism and learning from awful mistakes…this is fine with me! It should be fine with all of us. Unfair attacks or low morale, however, isn’t helpful. We can be critical, and fair and uplifted in doing so. It’s a craft, not an engine of degradation. Back in the day, it was equally in vogue to be prideful about Shambhala—we were the best, you know, doing something special, we had a unique recipe for simplicity and upliftedness, empathy and everyday practicality, all.

But if we hew to ethics, and celebration, both, not merely one or the other…we can see that Shambhala, like any organization, non-profit, for-profit, community, restaurant, glee squad, boy scout troop, church, corporation…had those who made mistakes, and those who intentionally made many such hurtful mistakes. And sometimes the community didn’t know how to process such being exposed, and engaged in all manner of confusion, neurosis, cover up, anger, self-recrimination, dissolution…whathaveyou.

But what I think Shambhala ought to do now that it’s been rightly humbled is get back to the path, the grindstone, the practice: and that’s teaching meditation, practicing meditation, offering programs, instituting honored independent codes of ethics at Drala Mountain Center and Karme Choling and the Boulder Shambhala Center and the Halifax Shambhala Center, etc. And we can allow ourselves to feel joy in community and contemplative art and meditation practice, too!

But those in or around Shambhala, or what’s left of it, often say—well, where do we go from here? Shambhala is independent now, which seems healthy. But folks persist in asking, Who will lead us? And we forget that we’re non-theistic! And that many of our leaders were self-concerned, self-conceited, or self-serious, or even petty—and that we don’t need leadership so much as we need service, exertion, lungta (a practice that can lead to the morale that comes from a full deep breath).

So, simply, I say Shambhala—by any name—ought to go forward now, quickly, fully, for many of its students and teachers are old, now, and we need their teaching and wisdom and energy over the next 10 years to reinvest in the middle and younger generations that are mostly missing. By asking the elder generations for donations, teachings, participation anew…we can cheer them up, and us up, and begin to train and retrain the younger generations.

This is urgent work in an aging, fractured, healing, humbled community. This is urgent work in a heating, angry, deeply good and sad world.

Any thoughts?

Specifically, we need to get back to donating to institutions like Karme Choling, that are wholesome but have drifted in some ways and are tired. The physical institution of Karme Choling is tired. It needs refreshing, polishing, eco- and Dharma-minded renovation. We need to be more Rime, inviting in all genuine teachers, as we were in the old days. We need to be more fresh, and full of energy, willing to lean into that millstone once more. It’s one of our paramitas, our basic practices, after all: exertion. We need to show up at our holidays and more humble weekly practice or gathering days—Children’s Day, Shambhala Day, Midsummer’s Day, and rediscover our community.

The other night Kelsey, my wife, and I attended an Enlightened Society gathering at the Boulder Shambhala Center, thanks to the invite of a fellow Dharma Brat buddy. We arrived late, after the holiday parade in downtown Boulder, and enjoyed some teaching, some community, some laughter, and many hugs. It felt humble, earthy, but elevated or inspiring, too. It felt like it was about meditation, about waking up, not about much else. It felt familiar. I missed it.