Nyungneys in the Eastern Highlands

Fasting for Compassion and Peace

“The enlightened mind is said to have three main aspects: compassion, power and wisdom. Of these, compassion is the most important because without compassion, power and wisdom can be very dangerous.”

Gelong Thubten, Explanation of the Nyungney Practice.

The soft morning light and songs of sunbirds call us to the shrine room. Many days of work by Pam and Jayne have created a beautiful practice space. A striking torma takes centre stage, made from oatmeal and ghee and decorated with fondant icing moon discs. Smaller torma offerings line up either side and a tiny candle-powered merry-go-round sends out the compassion mantra. Two vases of water, proteas, incense and candles stand in front of an exquisite thangka of 1000-armed Chenrezig. Gifted to the region by Rob Nairn, I smile at how delighted he must be to see us about to begin this Vajrayana fasting practice. The atmosphere of lineage gives added motivation for what may well be a challenging retreat. The days will be divided into three long sessions of 3 hours each, with an optional Mahakala evening practice. That’s an awful lot of sitting! We have committed to completing Nyungney pairs, fasting on alternate days – some of us are here for two or more pairs (Barbara, Mia, Viv, Debbie, Mike, Lucy, Brenda and Dave) and the stalwarts – Nara, Jayne and Pam – will complete all eight, with Diamond arriving for the last two.

We begin gently, with a non-fasting day and a zoom link to the retreat centre in Belgium, to be guided by Lama Rinchen. It feels like we are there with them in the Samye Meditation Garden. Emil, the umzi, chants loud and deep and we follow along, apart but together. Pam has compiled clear texts and explanation booklets, which give us a head start, but there’s a huge amount of symbolism and ritual, which we will need to learn slowly. Chanting Tibetan phonetics, while reading the English translation, doing mudras, and ringing the bell gives little time for my mind to wander. It tries, of course, as minds do, yet the feeling of gathering in community while being part of a global sangha is a motivating way to begin the year of the Fire Horse. I read the commentary between sessions, and each sitting gives me a little more understanding. There’s a long way to go, though. Luckily the 100-syllable mantra is often in the text to forgive all my mistakes.

Today is a fasting day, so nothing can go into our mouths, not even a toothbrush or water. Hours of Tibetan pours out though – prayers, praises, mantras and confessions. It feels like I’m being emptied of unskilful thoughts and words, memories and plans, and then scrubbed clean by prostrations. Hopefully, once I’m completely empty, wisdom and compassion can pour in. I’m surprised that I feel no hunger or thirst. Perhaps we’re being nourished by mantras and the nectar flowing from Chenrezig’s hand of generosity, into the white-ribboned bumpa on the shrine. We had discussed the visualisation the night before. Nara’s bumpa is as big as a mountain, filled with nectar for the hungry ghosts. I borrow this image and wish for all beings to drink from this vast source of sanity.

This Zimbabwean retreat centre is a Buddha realm – the most wonderful place for restful focus. Glorious granite Manyoli towers above us to the left, Susurumba to the right. The weather is ideal with warm days and cool nights for plentiful sleep and dreams. The vast African sky, star-studded as we leave after Mahakala, offers a reminder of our heart-mind’s potential. The birds entertain us, even knocking at the shrine window at times. “Look!”, they seem to say, “Freedom is possible.” And yes, there are wattle and gum trees too, maybe pointing out how invasive thoughts and unskilful habits can take over if not removed and replanted with wisdom energy. 

We get started with today’s practice by asking for help from the 35 Buddhas and taking the sojong vows. The vows feel like protection rather than restriction, knowing that we cannot fall into mundane habits of daily life and that we are supporting each other as a community. 75 minutes in and we hear the tea trolley arriving. It reminds me of a childhood ice cream van, promising sweet delights. The water we are offered makes every cell tingle with joy, the rooibos tea tastes like ambrosia and warms the heart, and even the pale runny porridge feels like a feast. The commentary explains that we consume this, not for our own benefit, but for the noo-noos that live in our gut. It’s such basic fare yet brings radiant smiles of appreciation for Trish and Forget, who have prepared this nourishment for us. I’m reminded that extravagant gestures are rarely as valuable as the simplest of offerings, given in a moment of need.

After another tea break, we continue with session 2. While chanting “Teyata om dhara dhara…” I visualise Chenrezig radiating blessings to all beings in the six realms. It’s a glorious image and my heart expands in my chest, lengthening my spine. Then pain shoots from my knee through the femur and hip. This is the moment for tonglen practice. I imagine people in war torn areas who have lost limbs, or those displaced and walking miles to find safety. There are so many hell realms on earth at this time – Gaza, Ukraine, Sudan – and my own pain provides an experiential link to all those who are suffering. I wish for peace and the end of that human-made devastation. 

The umzi switches the chant to ‘Om mani peme hung’ and something in me softens. A tingling sensation moves through as if my body is no longer solid. Pain transforms to sensation and then dissolves into ease. It’s like bathing in compassion and I remember to radiate that out too as an offering. Then I realize I’ve focused only on the lower realms – the hells, hungry ghosts and animals. What about the gods and jealous gods? I’m less sympathetic! My mind creates a checklist of those using their power at the expense of others and destroying the natural world in the process. Yet I’m here to cultivate compassion and imagine the light from Chenrezig’s seed syllable hrih touching their hearts and transforming their mind poisons. 

In the final session of the day, rain blesses us and Chenrezig enters the room with a thunderclap! This time I begin the mantra recitation by radiating light rays to the jealous gods, remembering that the green faces of Chenrezig’s 11-heads can transform jealousy into all-accomplishing wisdom. We end each session with an aspirational chant, wishing for happiness and goodness to pervade space like the sky, and for the ocean of suffering in samsara to be completely emptied. Debbie is so drawn to this prayer that she intends to tattoo it on her back.

A non-fasting day comes round again and even the sawwings are celebrating, racing together in circles and leading the way to the shrine room. Our lunch is more than a feast. Despite extensive food restrictions, Leeroy, Trish and Forget have produced flavour and abundance beyond measure. This may be the only Nyungney fasting retreat worldwide where the practitioners gain weight!

February becomes March and we hear news of the war in Iran. Thunder arrives at the retreat centre while bombs drop on Tehran. Rain pours down on the tin roofs and tears pour down the faces of the bereaved. Why do world leaders behave like this? Power without compassion or wisdom is the most dangerous of all. My Qatar flight is cancelled so I decide to stay. Nothing feels more important than contributing to a circle of peace amidst the horrors of war. I expand my visualisation and imagine the bumpa as the whole world, with each of us filling it up. Nectar pours out, creating the rivers, waterways and oceans of this blue planet. I imagine everyone drinking mantra-empowered water, freeing themselves from suffering. It is a dream I choose to hold on to. The rainbows that arrive over Susurumba make anything feel possible.

As I prepare to leave this special place, I wonder if I’ll practice Chenrezig every evening at home? Probably not! But whenever I hear a thunderclap, a warbling bird, or feel the wind against my skin, I’ll remember the little Chenrezig that lives in my heart. Trusting in the power of that seed syllable hrih, I hope that 1000-armed Chenrezig’s compassion and wisdom can flow through me to help all beings. And each of us in turn can help others. As the polycrisis deepens, fasting for compassion and peace to create islands of sanity may be the best we can do for now.

By Lucy Draper-Clarke