The Secret of Shambhala: In Search of the Eleventh Insight by James Redfield Read Free Book Online

are displaced because of economic initiatives the Chinese have mandated. Others are nomads who are
     starving because these policies have interrupted their way of life.” He clenched both fists.
    “The Chinese are doing the same thing Stalin did in Manchuria, importing thousands of outsiders, in this case ethnic Chinese,
     into Tibet to change the cultural balance and institute Chinese ways. They demand that our schools teach only the Chinese
     language.”
    “The people outside the gates of the monastery,” I asked, “why do they come here?”
    “Lama Rigden and the monks are working to help the poor, who are having the worst time with the transition of their culture.
     That is why the Chinese have left him alone. He helps solve the problems without agitating the populace against them.”
    Yin said this in a way that reflected a mild resentment against the Lama, and immediately he apologized.
    “No,” he said. “I didn’t mean to imply that the Lama is cooperating too much. It’s just that what the Chinese are doing is
     despicable.” He clenched his fists again and hit his knees. “Many thought at first that the Chinese government would be respectful
     of Tibetan ways, that we could exist within the Chinese nation without losing everything. But the government is bent on destroying
     us. This is clear now and we must begin to make it more difficult for them.”
    “You mean try to fight them?” I asked. “Yin, you know you can’t win that.”
    “I know, I know,” he said. “I just get so angry when I think of what they are doing. Someday the warriors of Shambhala will
     ride out and defeat these monsters of evil.”
    “What?”
    “It is a prophecy among my people.” He looked at me and shook his head. “I know I must work on my anger. It collapses my prayer-field.”
    Abruptly he stood up and added, “I’ll go ask Jampa if he has talked with the Lama. Please excuse me.” He bowed slightly and
     left.
    For a while I looked out at the Tibetan landscape, trying to comprehend fully the damage the Chinese occupation had done.
     At one point I even thought I heard another helicopter, but it was too far away to be sure. I knew Yin’s anger was justified,
     and I thought for several more minutes about the realities of the political situation in Tibet. The thought of asking for
     a phone came back to mind, and I wondered how hard it would be to place an international call.
    I was about to get up and head inside when I realized I felt tired, so I took a couple of deep breaths and tried to focus
     on the beauty around me. The snowcapped mountains and the green and brown colors of the landscape were stark and beautiful,
     and the sky was a rich blue with only a few clouds along the western horizon.
    As I gazed out, I noticed that the two monks who were several tiers down below me were staring intently up in my direction.
     I glanced behind me to see if there was something up there, but I could see nothing unusual. I smiled back in their direction.
    After a few minutes one of them walked up the stone steps toward me, carrying a basket full of hand tools. When he reached
     me, he nodded politely and began to weed a bed of flowers twenty feet to my right. Several minutes later he was joined by
     another monk, who began digging as well. Occasionally they would look over at me with inquiring eyes and deferential nods.
    I took more deep breaths and focused on the far distance again, thinking about what Yin had said concerning his prayer-field.
     He was worried that his anger against the Chinese collapsed his energy. What did he mean by that?
    Suddenly I began to feel the warmth of the sun and to sense its radiance more consciously, feeling a certain peacefulness
     I hadn’t felt since coming here. I took another breath with my eyes closed and perceived something else, an unusually sweet
     fragrance like a bouquet of flowers. My first thought was that the monks had clipped some of the blooms off the plants they