The Tingri Hundred

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Padampa in his Zhijé form (and not the 'Cutting' or Chö form) is, in recent times, mainly depicted with the very interesting gesture shown above. It seems to be unique to him, and I've never been able to locate a reasonable explanation for it that carries with it much conviction. If it was made with the right hand alone it would be the ubiquitous Teaching Gesture. (I think the gesture actually works well for many non-Buddhist Euro-types, too, since it looks like 'putting a fine point' on something, or just making a particular point [a 'micro-grip' for holding tiny objects]. It's not just an 'OK,' even if it does look similar, and even if we might find connections here, too, if we reflect awhile. I don't think it an accident that Europe somehow and somewhat shares this understanding with Tibet... Perhaps another time. Meanwhile, see and compare the picture down below.)

I imagine, although I have no proof for it, that the left hand exactly mirroring the right doubles the emphasis on his role as a teacher. But not only that, it seems to be saying that you receive double the teachings from him. At first you have a superficial understanding, and only later on and gradually, if at all, it hits you that he taught with something deeper in mind than you at first imagined. So to speak, the 'inner guru' kicks in. That is just my thought at the moment, and I may come up with a different explanation tomorrow.

The most famous literary piece by far among all the works associated with Padampa is the one known to every Tibetan as The Tingri Hundred. It exists in quite a few recensions, as often happens with extremely popular works, and not just in Tibet. It was written in verse in the form of couplets, about a hundred of them in this case (there is an obviously somewhat shorter version of this set of couplets called The Tingri Eighty). Each couplet ends with the same three syllables, the exclamatory Tingriwa (Ding-ri-ba). Since I need a term for these, I'll just call them Tingriwa couplets.

One way among others to divide the different recensions is to look at this verse (no. E16) to see if it has the word for 'monkey' (spre'u) or the rather similar, but only in its written form, word for 'rhinoceros' (bse'u, which I take to intend bse-ru) I think the monkey version makes better sense, but that's rather beside the point here.

In the forest fastness the monkey [or rhino] thinks it's happy,

but the edge of the forest is ringed with fire, my Tingrians.

We'll call those the monkey and rhino versions.  I only give this as one example among many others, just so nobody will imagine that the text was ever set in stone for all eternity.  Like texts throughout Eurasia in earlier centuries, the manuscripts were alive and evolving beings.

The earliest English translation of this work has helped to promote a rather unfortunate misconception.  The Evans-Wentz publication has Tingriwa translated as "Tingri folk."  This lends the impression that Padampa's words were addressed to the peasant villagers in Tingri. Actually, if they were spoken by Padampa at all, they were spoken to his meditation disciples at Tingri Langkhor, then and now a hermitage located an uncomfortable distance away from the main town.  They were not spoken to the 'folk' and do not belong in the category of folklore.  Another thing to observe about Evans-Wentz's version is that it attempts to use rather archaic English of the King James Biblical variety, making Padampa sound like the proverbial but eccentric prophet crying in the wilderness.  Well, in a way and to some degree I suppose he was.

I imagine you might have been a little surprised when I suggested, just now, that they might not be by Padampa.  Let me rephrase that.  All the versions that we have today were most definitely inspired by Padampa, who was the first to pronounce verses in the just-described form. Padampa spoke the original Tingriwa couplets. The second person to compose them was Padampa's immediate disciple Kunga, who pronounced no fewer than 118 of them just before his own death only 7 years after Padampa's. The odd and interesting fact is that only a very few of the Tingriwa couplets in the popular collections available today are actually found in the sets pronounced by Padampa and Kunga (these two latter preserved only in the Zhijé Collection). The simple solution to this problem is just to say that it's very likely that the collections we have today were not in fact by Padampa, but appeared at a later date in Tibetan literary history.  This idea might be supported with the information that, to the best of my knowledge, the very first Tibetan-authored work to quote any of the verses from the Tingri Hundred is one by the author of the most famous Tibetan history book, The Blue Annals.  That means Gö Lotsawa, in his commentary on the Ratnagotravibhaga.  You can find the verse Gö Lotsawa quotes at no. E20 in our text of The Tingri Hundred.

Escorted by your Lama you will arrive where you want to go.

As your fee, pay your trust and veneration, my Tingrians.

What that means is that the earliest citation of a couplet resembling any of those we have in our Tingri Eighty or Tingri Hundred collections (both of them include this verse, but the sets of Tingriwa couplets in the Zhijé Collection do not have it) is in a composition dated to 1473 CE.  The other known verse citations date between the 18th century and the present.  There are quite a few of these, testifying to the popularity of our collection in the last three centuries.

When we look at the end of the work, we find a colophon in the form of a stanza which would seem to tell us that some unnamed person 'compiled' or 'arranged' it (if that is the right understanding for the verb bkod in this context, since sometimes it can mean 'composed').

Many verses gently encourage ethical behavior, but some of them are just so blatantly moralizing (particularly some of the verses near the end, which anyway are missing from some of the published versions), I can't believe Padampa actually taught them in Tingri (see couplets E95 through E98). It just wasn't his style. And his students, all serious Buddhist meditators, didn't need to be told to try and be good people.  Or to shun evil companions.  Really not.

The irony is that Padampa's best-known legacy is not our best guide to his actual teachings.  That guide would be the Zhijé Collection itself.  (If it weren't for some other Zhijé collections of comparable age and quality that lie unpublished and inaccessible in Lhasa libraries, we might say with justice that the Zhijé Collection is the only thing there is.)

It shouldn't be cause for any wonder that a recurring theme of the verses is death. It is a Last Will and Testament, after all. I hope that hearing that word won't scare you off. That would be unfortunate.

A flower one moment fine, the next moment all dried out,
there’s no relying on the body, my Tingrians.

– Couplet E30 of The Tingri Hundred.

Gather ye rosebuds while ye may,

  Old Time is still a-flying;

And this same flower that smiles today

 Tomorrow will be dying.

The message of this verse that opens Robert Herrick's famous poem "To the Virgins, to Make Much of Time" — the same verse makes a cameo appearance in that 1989 Robin Williams movie, The Dead Poets Society — is that young people had better hurry up and get laid while they still have it in them. Padampa's verse uses the death imagery of the faded flower to encourage renunciation of worldly life. Herrick equips his verse with the same imagery to encourage young people to dive headlong into it. Same medium, same poetic flower imagery... opposite messages. Which I suppose is one reason Padampa, with his strong-minded advocacy of the life of renunciation, of meditation in solitude, is not likely to find multitudes of ready listeners in our day. My position is that even an imagined renunciation can do much to promote ethical reflection by people who find themselves, willingly or not, caught up in the flow (and of course the ebb) of life. In that spirit, I think anyone can appreciate at least some parts of The Tingri Hundred. I'm not alone here thinking we simply must think more about what we're doing and why. Am I?

And before sending you off to read the translation, assuming you're prepared to do that, I'd like to say that these critical reflections of mine about authorship have no bearing whatsoever on the Buddhist truth and/or spiritual authority of the text itself. It is great Tibetan poetry, a monument to the Tibetan language, a source of wisdom regardless of your ideas about religion, and a trigger for reflection on life, no matter who wrote it when. Feel free to think as you like.

The message as well as the language of this Last Will is naturally a little solemn, and rather unconsciously I have preserved a degree of solemnity in the translation, using words like savor and imbibe instead of taste and drink.  But on occasion there is a breath of lightness and ease, a bit of almost-casual colloquial expression. I've tried to supply some of these moments, too, to the best of my ability, not always in the same places though. Nothing in these translations is final. Like everything else, it's a continuing process.

Perhaps for a later blog I'll try to finish up my translation of Padampa's original set of a dozen or so Tingriwa couplets and give more evidence for, and develop further, the ideas I've put forward here.  Don't neglect to breathe.  I've got a few other things to do meanwhile.

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Carpe Diem: Poems for Making the Most of Time. Posted at the official website of the Academy of American Poets, here.

'Gos Lo-tsâ-ba Gzhon-nu-dpal, Theg pa chen po rgyud bla ma'i bstan bcos kyi 'grel bshad de kho na nyid rab tu gsal ba'i me long, Commentary on the Ratnagotravibhâgavyâkhyâ, ed. by Klaus-Dieter Mathes, Franz Steiner (Stuttgart 2003), at p. 53 is the quote of Padampa's verse. K-D Mathes' translation of couplet E20 has just been published in his monumental translation of that just-mentioned work under the title A Direct Path to the Buddha Within: Go Lotsawa's Mahamudra Interpretation of the Ratnagotravibhaga, Wisdom (Boston 2008), p. 262:

If you commend yourself to the lama, you reach wherever you like.
People of Dingri, show devotion and respect to the lama [who is like your] feet.

Chapter 17, "The Gesture of Thought, the Sign of Logos," contained in: H.P. L'Orange, Studies on the Iconography of Cosmic Kingship in the Ancient World, Instituttet for Sammenlignende Kulturforskning (Oslo 1953), pp. 171-197.  

"The scroll [or book] in the left hand contains the written speech; the gesture of the right one expresses the realization of the written in the living word."

Portrait of L. Gernier, 
a professor of theology from Basel, 
painted by J.R. Werenfels.

Padampa Studies in the Last Decade

 

These last years have seen some interesting and important new publications in Padampa and Zhijé studies. Included in the list are some fresh new translations of the Tingri Hundred and the Tingri Eighty. No matter which it is, Hundred or Eighty, this is the one composition Padampa is most famous for even if it is one he didn’t compose.* If anything is neglected here it wasn’t by design, so let me know what’s missing, I’ll gladly add it. 

I never imagined any Padampa work could ever appear in Catalan, or that a newly found Tangut-language version of his life would be subject of a study in Chinese, but there you go. And what about that Russian article on a Padampa text in Oirat-Mongolian language found in the National Museum of Tuva? What, you never read Tuva or Bust? Sometimes you have to go quite far to demonstrate how much you’ve embraced inclusiveness.

But if you ask me to choose the two publications during the last decade that have done the most for Zhijé and Padampa studies, I answer without hesitation, [1] the 13-volume publication of 2012-2013 and [2] the new translations by Sarah Harding. Looking at the entire list, it might appear that our present-day Padampa is shifting more toward a vision of him as a prophet of things to come and an expert in some kind of divination. That could be an illusion, like so many of our mental images turn out to be. Well, once we’ve developed the ability to see through them.

(*The Tingri Thirteen is the only one that is at all likely to be his, even if hardly anyone recognizes that this is so at this moment in time. Padampa created the form of these couplets and initiated the creation of all the future examples. Look here if you want to know about the monkey and rhino recensions. My own translation of the Tingri Hundred is so far published only here on the internet. I haven't tried to cover internet postings in my list, so with one or two exceptions these are all hard copies consulted in print format.)

 

§   §   §

Okay, here’s the list. I insert comments only when I think I can clarify the content in a general way. Since the 13-volume set doesn’t have an author exactly, I’ll list it first —

Zhi-byed Snga Phyi Bar Gsum-gyi Chos-skor Phyogs-bsgrigs / ཞི་བྱེད་སྔ་ཕྱི་བར་གསུམ་གྱི་ཆོས་སྐོར་ཕྱོགས་བསྒྲིགས་, alternative title: Dam-chos Sdug-bsngal Zhi-byed Rtsa-ba'i Chos-sde dang / Yan-lag Bdud-gyi Gcod-yul / དམ་ཆོས་སྡུག་བསྔལ་ཞི་བྱེད་རྩ་བའི་ཆོས་སྡེ་དང་། ཡན་ལག་བདུད་ཀྱི་གཅོད་ཡུལ་, Ding-ri Glang-skor Gtsug-lag-khang / དིང་རི་གླང་སྐོར་གཙུག་ལག་ཁང་ (Kathmandu 2012-2013), in 13 vols. 

For more on this, look here. And for a title list, you might need to look here. It does contain some unique titles never before published, such as the guidebook to Tingri Langkhor that Barbara N. Aziz studied years ago, you have to look for them. Most important for future researchers, the text is done using computerized Tibetan script, so it is entirely possible to do Online Character Recognition that will make it simple to search through the entire set with a single click. Some things should never be so easy. Hear my inner Luddite talking?

Matthew Akester, “Ting-ri Langkor (Ding ri Gla/Glang ’khor/skor),” contained in: Idem., Jamyang Khyentsé Wangpo’s Guide to Central Tibet, Serindia (Chicago 2016), pp. 668-671.

Especially recommended if you wonder about the history and current state of Tingri Langkhor (དིང་རི་གླང་འཁོར་), the place where Padampa taught during his final sojourn in Tibet, with much on the holy objects and relics that we expect to find emphasized in a pilgrimage guidebook.

Evgeniĭ Vladimirovich Bembeev, “Oĭratskaia rukopisʹ «Shastra pod nazvaniem “Zolotye chetki khrabrosti”, sochinennaia nastavnikom Padamboĭ» iz fonda Natsionalʹnogo muzeia Tuvy” [The Shastra titled ‘A Golden Rosary of Courage’ Composed by Teacher Padamba: An Oirat Manuscript from the National Museum of Tuva], The New Research of Tuva, no. 4 (2019), pp. 53-61. Try this link.

I wish I could tell you more about what this text is, but really, I could use your help here, I’m mystified. If as it seems it is a prophetic text, it could prove interesting, especially as it concerns religious corruption and deceit by rulers, things we know all too well. But wait one minute, I can’t believe myself for finding it considering all the odds, but the very “same” text found in Tuva has been translated into English from its Tibetan original in Sarah Harding’s new book listed below, on p. 537 or thereabout. Sarah prefaces her translation commenting that this text seems to pop out of nowhere, “leaving no paper trail,” unmentioned in Kongtrul’s lists, perhaps explainable if it was added into the Treasury of Precious Instructions (གདམས་ངག་མཛོད་) by someone else. Oddly enough TBRC doesn’t seem to know of even one copy of this title outside of the Treasury of Precious Instructions. Now we know of one, in Oirat.

José Cabezón, The Buddha's Doctrine and the Nine Vehicles: Rog Bande Sherab's Lamp of the Teachings, Oxford University Press (Oxford 2013). 

Translation of an important Nyingma text by one of the three Rog brothers, important for the Zhijé school in the early 13th century, when earlier lineages were consolidated.

Francesc Navarro i Fàbrega, tr., Un Mahâsiddha Indi al Tibet: Vida i ensenyaments de Padampa Sanguie, Editorial Dipankara (Sabadell 2011).

Catalan translation of the Tingri Eighty. Tibetan text is provided in Tibetan script.

_____, tr., Un Mahâsiddha Indio en el Tíbet: Vida y enseñanzas de Padampa Sanguie, Editorial Dipankara (Sabadell 2011). 

Spanish translation of the Tingri Eighty. Tibetan text is provided in Tibetan script.

Carla Gianotti, “Female Buddhist Adepts in the Tibetan Tradition: The Twenty-four Jo Mo, Disciples of Pha Dam Pa Sangs Rgyas,” Journal of Dharma Studies, vol. 2 (2019), pp. 15-29. Look here.

_____, Jo mo. Donne e realizzazione spirituale in Tibet, Ubaldini Editore (Rome 2020).

This contains an Italian translation of Kunga's collective biography of twenty-four women disciples of Padampa. The title that appears in the Zhijé Collection version reads: Jo-mo Nyi-shu-rtsa-bzhi’i Zhu-lan Lo-rgyus dang bcas-pa. 

_____, “The Lives of the Twenty-Four Jo-mos of the Buddhist Tradition: Identity and Religious Status,” contained in: Karma Lekshe Tsomo, ed., Contemporary Buddhist Women: Contemplation, Cultural Exchange, and Social Action, University of Hong Kong (Hong Kong 2017), pp. 238-244.

_____, “La verità del fuoco. Le ventiquattro jo mo della tradizione tibetana e l'insegnamento di Pha Dam pa sangs rgyas,” a paper given at the first meeting of the Associazione Italiana di Studi Tibetani e Himalayani (Procida 2017).

Sarah Harding, “Pha Dampa Sangye and the Alphabet Goddess: A Preliminary Study of the Sources of the Zhije Tradition.” This was an internet publication at tsadra.org, and I'm not sure if it is still there, need to check. 

Oh, here it is.

_____, Zhije, the Pacification of Suffering (=The Treasury of Precious Instructions: Essential Teachings of the Eight Practice Lineages of Tibet Volume 13), Snow Lion (Boulder 2019), a hardback book in 668 pages.

This includes so much, so much there is no hope of encapsulating it in a brief statement. For now, notice at least that it does include new translations of the Tingri Eighty and the Thirty Aspirations. Most remarkable are the texts for empowerment rituals never before noticed in any publication in any language other than Tibetan that I know of.

Lozang Jamspal and David Kittay, eds. & trs., Pha Dam-pa Sangs-rgyas-kyi Zhal-gdams Ding-ri Brgya-rtsa-ma (Pha Dampa Sangs rgyas’s One Hundred Spiritual Instructions to the Dingri People), Ladakhi Ratnashridipika / La-dwags Rin-chen Dpal-gyi Sgron-ma (Leh 2011). 

Translation of the Tingri Hundred. Each couplet is given in Tibetan script immediately followed by its English translation. Appended to it is a reproduction of a verse praise in honor of the late E. Gene Smith composed by Prof. 'Bum-skyabs with the title Bod-brgyud Nang-bstan Gsung-rab Dar-spel-gyi Phyogs-la Mdzad-rjes Bla-na-mtho-ba'i Sku-zhabs 'Jam-dbyangs-rnam-rgyal Mchog-la Rjes-dran-du Phul-ba Bcos-min Sems-kyi 'Bod-sgra / བོད་བརྒྱུད་ནང་བསྟན་གསུང་རབ་དར་སྤེལ་གྱི་ཕྱོགས་ལ་མཛད་རྗེས་བླ་ན་མཐོ་བའི་སྐུ་ཞབས་འཇམ་དབྱངས་རྣམ་རྒྱལ་མཆོག་ལ་རྗེས་དྲན་དུ་ཕུལ་བ་བཅོས་མིན་སེམས་ཀྱི་འབོད་སྒྲ་ You may have to travel to Ladakh to find a copy of this small book, but I chose the easier path and wrote to the authors. 

Matthew Kapstein, tr., “The Advice of an Indian Yogin,” contained in K. Schaeffer, M. Kapstein & G. Tuttle, eds., Sources of Tibetan Tradition, Columbia University Press (New York 2013), pp. 234-242.

Translation of the Tingri Hundred. Based on the Lhasa xylograph with the exact title Pha Rje-btsun Dam-pa Sangs-rgyas-kyi Zhal-gdams Ding-ri Brgya-rtsa-ma / ཕ་རྗེ་བཙུན་དམ་པ་སངས་རྒྱས་ཀྱི་ཞལ་གདམས་དིང་རི་བརྒྱ་རྩ་མ་

Mkhas-grub Khyung-po Rnal-’byor, et al., Zhi-byed dang Shangs-pa’i Chos-skor, Dpal-brtsegs Bod-yig Dpe-rnying Zhib-’jug-khang, Bod-ljongs Mi-dmangs Dpe-skrun-khang (Lhasa 2010) / 

Several texts of Zhijé in a conveniently small volume, although the texts it contains were already widely available.

Dan Martin, “Crazy Wisdom in Moderation: Padampa Sangyé’s Use of Counterintuitive Methods in Dealing with Negative Mental States,” contained in: Yael Bentor and Meir Shahar, eds., Chinese and Tibetan Esoteric Buddhism, Brill (Leiden 2017), pp. 193-214.

_____, “Divinations Padampa Did or Did Not Do, or Did or Did Not Write,” contained in: Petra Maurer, Donatella Rossi and Rolf Scheuermann, eds., Glimpses of Tibetan Divination, Past and Present, Brill (Leiden 2020), pp. 73-88.

_____, “Ritual Indigenization as a Debated Issue in Tibetan Buddhism (11th to Early 13th Centuries),” contained in: Henk Blezer and Mark Teeuwen, Challenging Paradigms: Buddhism and Nativism, Framing Identity Discourse in Buddhist Environments, Brill (Leiden 2013), pp. 159-194. 

This includes a peculiar episode from the Zhijé Collection in which the South Indian Padampa performs a local Tibetan divination ritual for the benefit of a woman who was one of his Tingrian meditation students.

_____, “Yak Snot: Padampa’s Animal Metaphors and the Question of Indian-ness (Theirs and His),” contained in: Hanna Havnevik & Charles Ramble, eds., From Bhakti to Bon: Festschrift for Per Kvaerne, The Institute for Comparative Research in Human Culture, Novus Forlag (Oslo 2015), pp. 337-349.

David Molk with Lama Tsering Wangdu Rinpoche, trs., Lion of Siddhas: The Life and Teachings of Padampa Sangye, Snow Lion (Ithaca 2008). A brief review by Michelle Sorensen appeared in Religious Studies Review, vol. 35, no. 1 (March 2009), p. 78.

This doesn’t quite belong to the last decade like the others listed here, but I include it here anyway because it is such an important translation of a large number of texts not previously Englished. The translators made use of a manuscript that sometimes has significantly different readings, but it seems, based on statements found in Weber’s thesis (see below), that it no longer exists. The autobiography of Tsering Wangdu Rinpoche has been translated by Joshua Waldman and Lama Jinpa and published in 2008 under the title Hundred Thousand Rays of the Sun (I recommend an internet search for the title).

Monika Lorås Rønning, The Path of Machig Labdron: gCod, its History, Philosophy, and Contemporary Practice in Central Tibet, Master’s thesis, Department of Culture Studies and Oriental Languages, Oslo University (Oslo 2005). For an abstract only, look here.

Saerje (Gsar-brje), “Buddhapāla → Dam pa sangs rgyas ← Bodhidharma” [in Chinese], contained in: Wang Bangwei, Chen Jinhua and Chen Ming, eds., Studies on Buddhist Myths: Texts, Pictures, Traditions and History, Proceedings of the International Symposium on Cross-cultural Researches on Buddhist Mythology, Zhongxi Book Company (Shanghai 2013), pp. 165–176.

_____, “The Studies on the Narrative Inscriptions of Master Dharma Cave in Yunnan Province” [in Chinese with some Tibetan], contained in Wang Song, ed., Engaged Buddhism: The History and Reality of Asia, Proceedings of the 2015 Chong Sheng International Forum, Religious Culture Publishing House (Beijing 2016), pp. 97–127. See if this finds it for you.

Neldjorma Seunam Ouangmo [Rnal-’byor-ma Bsod-nams-dbang-mo], Testament Spirituel. Les cent préceptes de Ding-Ri Dernières recommandations de Pa Dampa Sangyé, en appendice Les Trente Souhaits, Editions Yogi Ling (Evaux-les-Bains 1997). 

I add this, even if it lies outside the time parameters, just because it should be noticed more. With the Tibetan and French on facing pages it includes not only the Tingri Hundred, but also the Thirty Aspirations.

Alexander K. Smith, lDe’u ’phrul, the Manifestation of Knowledge: Ethnophilological Studies in Tibetan Divination with Particular Emphasis upon a Common Form of Bon Lithomancy, doctoral thesis, École Pratique des Hautes Études (Paris 2017). 

This and the next listing share interesting information on the pebble divination teachings given to Padampa by the Bon teacher Khro-tshang ’Brug-lha. The possibility to download a PDF of it is here.

_____, “Prognostic Structure & the Use of Trumps in Tibetan Pebble Divination,” Magic, Ritual & Witchcraft, vol. 12 (Summer 2015), pp. 1-21. 

Michelle Sorensen, Making the Old New Again and Again: Legitimation and Innovation in the Tibetan Buddhist Chöd Tradition, PhD dissertation, Columbia University (New York 2013). I think it is available here, not sure.

_____, “Padampa Sanggye,” Treasury of Lives, accessed March 10, 2021.

Sun Bojun, “A Textual Research on Chos-kyi-seng-ge, the Xixia State Preceptor,” Journal of Chinese Writing Systems, vol. 1, no. 9 (2018), pp. 1-9. 

At p. 5 there is a paragraph on Padampa's Tangut connections. Here Padampa is referred to by a name that corresponds to Tibetan Nag-chung. Sun Bojun has written, too, about the newly discovered Tangut text with biographical information on Padampa (a part of a Chinese version had been known before). It may be available on the internet if you belong to a subscribing institution.

Sun Penghao, “Four Texts Related to Pha dam pa sangs rgyas in the Chinese Translation of the Tangut Kingdom of Xia,” contained in: Shen Weirong, ed., History through Textual Criticism: Tibetan Buddhism in Central Eurasia and China Proper (Beijing 2012), pp. 85-97.

_____, “Pha dam pa Sangs rgyas in Tangut Xia: Notes on Khara Khoto Chinese Manuscript TK329,” contained in: Tsuguhito Takeuchi, et al., Current Issues and Progress in Tibetan Studies, Research Institute of Foreign Studies (Kobe 2013), pp. 505-521. Try this link.

Khenchen Thrangu, Advice from a Yogi: An Explanation of a Tibetan Classic on What Is Most Important, tr. by the Thrangu Dharmakara Collaborative, Shambhala (Boston 2015). 

A new translation of the Tingri Hundred with teachings in the form of commentary by Thrangu Rinpoche. His longer Tibetan name is Khra-’gu Rin-po-che IX Karma-blo-gros-lung-rigs-smra-ba’i-seng-ge (b. 1933).

Kenchen Thrangu, “On What Is Most Important: Kenchen Thrangu on the Liberatory Verses of the Tibetan Yogi Padampa Sangye,” Tricycle Magazine (Fall 2015). This is an extract from the book.

Trulzhik Rinpoche (’Khrul-zhig Rin-po-che, Kyabje Zhadeu Trulzhik Rinpoche), and Lama Sangye, The Seed of Faith: The History of the Sacred Inner Relics of Dingri Langkor in the Upper Mountain-Pass Region of Tibet, Dingri Langkor Tsuglag Khang (Kathmandu 2014), in 63 pages with color plates. 

I have only seen this listed in an online book catalog. I've never actually seen it. I suppose it’s in English. I imagine it’s just a translation of the pilgrim guide sponsored and studied by Barbara N. Aziz years ago: “The Work of Pha dam pa Sangs rgyas as Revealed in Ding ri Folklore,” contained in: Michael Aris & Aung San Suu Kyi, eds., Tibetan Studies in Honour of Hugh Richardson, Aris & Phillips, Ltd. (Warminster 1980), pp. 21-29 and Idem., “Indian Philosopher as Tibetan Folk Hero: Legend of Langkor: A New Source Material on Phadampa Sangye,” Central Asiatic Journal, vol. 23, nos. 12 (1979), pp. 19-37. The original Tibetan of this same pilgrim guide was to my knowledge first made public in a modern print publication in the 13-volume collection listed at the beginning of our list, at vol. 2 (KHA), pp. 803-821, where it has the title Bod-yul La-stod Ding-ri Glang-skor-gyi Nang-rten Byin-can Khag-gi Lo-rgyus Dad-pa'i Sa-bon (བོད་ཡུལ་ལ་སྟོད་དིང་རི་གླང་སྐོར་གྱི་ནང་རྟེན་བྱིན་ཅན་ཁག་གི་ལོ་རྒྱུས་དད་པའི་ས་བོན་). I was of the impression its true author was a nun, one named Ani Ngawang, something that may have gotten lost in the shuffle, as does happen sometimes.

Julika Maria Weber, Translation and Contextualization of Pha dam pa Sangs rgyas’s Three Cycles of Mahâmudrâ Signs, Master of Arts thesis, supervisor Klaus-Dieter Mathes, Tibetologie und Buddhismuskunde, Universität Wien (Vienna 2020).

This thesis features in English translation three texts that represent the core of the questions-and-answers section (Padampa’s answers to Kunga’s questions) of the Zhijé Collection. The three together are often called Phyag-rgya-chen-po Brda’i Skor Gsum or Brda’i Zhus-lan Skor Gsum. They are: 1. Pointing Out the Purity of the Body as Signs, 2. Pointing Out Enlightened Verbal Expressions as Signs, and 3. Pointing Out the Realization of the Mind as Signs. You might find an abstract here. David Molk published a translation in his 2008 book, pp. 177-192 (only two titles are given, but all three texts are represented there, and what is more, evidently made use of a manuscript that ordered the paragraphs differently), and I also made a translation that I haven’t yet given to anyone.

Not a Padampa

As we’re prone to do when trapped in our rooms with nowhere to go, I was wearing out my eyesight for a good cause browsing through some recently posted photos of Tibetan art works at Himalayan Art Resources website. If you are reading Tibeto-logic you no doubt already know that HAR is the best place in the whole universe to see Tibetan art. No museum can compete with it, not even the Newark Museum. I was thrilled to see what did at first seem to me to be a brassy image of our hero Padampa. Have a look at it yourself by tapping on those purple colored words (or are they orange, you decide). I mean, it has one hand raised above the head, the other holding what could very well be a bag, and we know that Padampa’s “Interdependence Bag” does at times occur as part of his iconography, even in his left hand as we see here. And Padampa was well known for practicing yogic gazes out into space, something perhaps indicated by the way the right hand is raised above the head. But when I looked at the back side of the lotus throne, I soon changed my mind. There we can read a inscription very clearly: 

grub thob gling la na mo, or Praise to the Siddha Ling.  

That means Lingrepa Pema Dorjé. On him have a look at the biographical sketch at Treasury of Lives. He may be regarded as the founder of the Drukpa Kagyü order, even if there has been some equivocation on that point. And that means the school affiliation of the image supplied on the website requires emending, too. Lingrepa is normally depicted in his untamable Siddha aspect, and the presence of a bag may just be telling us he was a wandering yogi, one who packed a bit of food for along the way, as yogis had been doing in India and Tibet all along, not just Padampa. I should look into this question, but right off the top of my head I just don’t know of any affinities Lingrepa may have had for Padampa or the Zhijé School. I do know that Lingrepa was often compared to the Indian Mahâsiddha Saraha, the one who made arrows.

§   §   §

Read more

A fine new essay about Lingrepa has appeared. You may be able to locate a free copy of it on the internet, if not right at this moment in the near future. Here are the details: Marco Walther, “The Development of the Biographies of Gling ras pa Padma rdo rje (1128-1188),” Bulletin of Tibetology, vol. 51 nos. 1-2 (2015), pp. 99-113. It has a bibliography that includes earlier writings you may want to look into.

I guess I had a point to make about iconography here, and never actually made it. Padampa appears in many forms besides the better known ones (try looking here). There are quite a few un-inscribed portrait images that I would regard — because of a cluster of traits associated with him — to be what I call possible Padampas. This image could at first glance qualify as one of them, no doubt, but when we turn it over and find the label we realize our mistake.*

(*We might want to make an argument that labels carved in stone or etched in metal are always correct, but nowadays with the stakes high there is really no limit to the things business people might do to increase the value of their pieces. That said, I hasten to add that there is not any reason to think that is happening in this instance. After all, those particular iconographic features could just as well apply to Lingrepa as far as we can know, and anyway no particular advantage could be expected by altering the identity of the person portrayed. If anything, a depiction of Padampa would have more, and not less, value than one of Lingrepa.)

PS (March 24, 2020)

Since posting this I thought to take a closer look at other Padampa images that are featured on this HAR webpage. I was surprised to see a special category of Padampas in the [right hand] “salute gesture.” This does of course include the very image that contains the inscription identifying it as Lingrepa, and to me this casts in doubt the inclusion of this entire group among the Padampas. Why not call them all Lingrepas on the strength of the inscriptional evidence? Still, there are one or two examples in this group that have enough Padampa characteristics I would still want to call them possible Padampas, this one in particular, although the right hand really isn’t raised high enough to be in the salute gesture. This same one has been published a few times, as for example in D. Weldon & J.C. Singer, The Sculptural Heritage of Tibet, Laurence King (London 1999), plate 31 on pp. 154-55, where it is labelled as “Yogin.” This yogin, along with the nude image that once belonged to  R. H. Ellsworth, I regard as possible or possibly even probable Padampas, as I’ve argued before in the case of the Ellsworth.

PPS (March 26, 2020)

Just to add perplexity to complication, try this experiment. Go to the HAR website’s page about a thangka with Pemakarpo as its central figure. Scroll down the page until you find a detail with the added label “Ling Repa.” Tap it for a closer view (or go here). If it didn’t hit you like a hammer right away, let me tell you, this is a perfectly normal Zhijé form of Padampa, with the mirroring hand gestures unique to Padampa, the loose blanket around the lower part of the body, the earrings, everything. In my mind this is not just a possible Padampa, it’s a definite one. If you would like to have a closer look at the painting as a whole, you can see what I believe are biographical scenes from the life of Pemakarpo, the Fourth Drukchen showing his meditations and visionary experiences. One of these scenes shows what I imagine is the Drukchen himself in a posture of veneration beneath what would have to be a vision of Padampa's presence. Unless there is a label saying Lingrepa somewhere there, and I couldn’t find one, I think that is what we are seeing. Oh, and one more thing, unlike Lingrepa, we know that Pemakarpo had Zhijé teachings, and he composed a respectably lengthy text on the subject (details here).

HAR 65368, detail

PPPS (April 11, 2020)

Here’s another bit of fun with iconography I’d like to share and discuss if you have time for it. Have a look at this all-too-short video that informs us that the thangka, while bearing characteristic marks of an old (perhaps pre-Mongol period) painting, nevertheless has to be dated two centuries later because the curator identified a figure in its upper register as being Pema Lingpa (1450-1521 CE). It’s true that Pema Lingpa is often depicted this way, with an Orgyan hat like that of Guru Rinpoche and the longlife vase held in the palms of hands in meditation gesture, just as you see here. But notice right away in the first seconds of the video the arrow pointing to something the unnamed scholars supposedly missed, an inscription that indeed reads when we standardize the Tibskrit spellings Puṇyamaṅgalaṃ. Okay, but this is a Sanskritized 'name mantra' of a Tibetan (as we can see in the portrait itself) who would have been named Bsod-nams-bkra-shis.  The name Bsod-nams-bkra-shis does not as far as anyone seems to know belong to any set of names given to Pema Lingpa.  We know it *does* belong to a number of other people. So answer this puzzle: Given the fact that it fits the iconography and looks like Pema Lingpa, the label tells us it must be someone else. Is someone overlooking something?*

*(Just now I noticed that HAR has posted a version of this same painting with added English identifications. Have a look.)

Finally, if you went to HAR and liked what you saw there, you might consider a donation by looking at its Go Fund Me page. It's just a suggestion, I mean it's no business of mine what you do with your hard earned money or your ill-gotten gains. Whichever.

New Padampa Manuscripts

Note: What you will find in this blog is a lightly edited version of something with the title you see here. A few days ago it was delivered at the seminar of the International Association of Tibetan Studies in Bergen. The IATS is still the best possible place for anyone who wants to hang out with people of all backgrounds doing Tibetan studies with all their various academic approaches and find out what their friends and comrades are saying and doing nowadays. I apologize to everyone whose papers I missed: [1] There were a lot of time conflicts and [2] I had to pace myself. The spoken paper is here combined with the powerpoint slides. Hardly any bibliography has been supplied. Click on the slides and they ought to expand.

I suppose even in a group of Tibet-wallas like this  it may be that two or three people have not already learned that there is such a thing as the Middle Transmission of Zhijé. Please, no need to raise your hands. It is not your fault. The fact is, very little has been published in Tibetan, let alone translated. From some perspective, these words “very little” might tempt you to translate into ‘more than enough.’ Well, I hope to convince you otherwise some day.

Just let me say a few words to start with about the sources we have had access to until now on this subject. That way we can ensure that the appearance of the new sources we will introduce here will be greeted with just the right level of astonishment.

What does “Middle Transmission” mean? To begin with, the genuinely early expression is brgyud-pa bar-pa although we do find in some texts dating back about three centuries occasional use of bka'-babs bar-pa.

In the past, for several reasons the most significant available source was the Blue Annals in both its Tibetan- and English-language versions.

[Note: Could also mention the Crystal Mirror of Philosophical Systems of Thuken (Thu'u-bkwan).  There are about seven pages devoted to Zhijé in this work that has been recently translated in its entirety into English. Of these seven pages nearly three are devoted to the Middle Transmission.]

About the only other publication of much significance we had available in the past was a section contained in the anthology known as the Treasury of Esoteric Precepts (Gdams ngag mdzod). This selection of Zhijé texts has not yet been translated into another language, although I understand one is underway. Here we find a brief and presumably representative set of texts. However, for the Middle Transmission the subjects are limited to initiation rites and lineage prayers. Although chief editorship of the entire Treasury of Esoteric Precepts is credited to Kongtrul Lodrö Tayé (Kong-sprul Blo-gros-mtha'-yas) during the years 1871 through 1881 CE, in the case of the Zhijé works, he simply adopted a ready-made anthology done in 1706 by Lochen Dharmashri (Lo-chen Dharma-shrî) of Mindroling (Smin-grol-gling) Monastery. Although his dates are rather late, I think just because this Nyingmapa teacher showed an interested in Zhijé teachings, it points to something we might regard as unexpected or even unusual. Well, I hope I can say something more about the Nyingma connection and how the Bhutanese collections have steered my own mind more in favor of historical relations between these two schools of Tibetan Buddhism. At the same time, this Middle Transmission collection could help us explore a remarkable example of a historical connection between the Zhijé founder and a particular teaching that belongs to the Bon tradition. And we will also spare some words about the  (still) largely mysterious origins of the Cutting or Chö (Gcod) tradition.

Meanwhile, let’s say a few quick words about Padampa, the problem of his various names, and the main/major publications of his works so far.

Here we see the most famous image of this south Indian (now in the collection of the LACMA), along with the names he is most usually known by in more recent times, as well as the dates he is normally given. Although for reasons of the datings of the western Tibetan royal line (relying largely on the studies of Roberto Vitali), I believe his stay in Tingri may have to be shifted back in time by one twelve-year cycle (and Cyrus Stearns, on the basis of one Tibetan-language chronological study, has suggested the same).

It is most important to be aware that he had two ordination names, first his novice name Kamalaśrī and secondly his full ordination name Kamalaśīla. These two names are often found in colophons of Tanjur texts associated with him, and both of them have often caused confusion in the past until now. On account of the name Kamalaśrī, he is sometimes confused with the Indian informant of Rashid ad-Din (Hamadani) in mid-thirteenth-century Persia, which is of course chronologically impossible. As Kamalaśīla he is often presumed to be the Indian teacher by that name who visited the court of Emperor Trisongdetsen in the late eighth century, also a chronological impossibility unless we were to accept some Tibetan writers’ ideas that Padampa had an improbably long life. The other Indic names that you can see here we will not discuss because they occur only rarely, even if they, too, cause confusion.

Now for the very different names he received in Tibet. In the earliest texts, one of the most common ways to refer to him is Dampa Gyagar (Dam-pa Rgya-gar), but even more often simply Dampa. Other names, especially the ones that emphasize his blackness, seem to get used more and more frequently in the course of the 12th century (especially among Kagyü writers starting around the mid-12th century). His followers regarded his blackness as one among a number of his qualities that made him remarkable and special... and worthy of respect. I should emphasize, particularly for those who may find the statement surprising: Racial prejudice in the American tradition did not exist in Tingri in those days. At the same time, clearly, Padampa consciously played with local Tingrians’ stereotypes about the atsara, the gold-greedy sadhus who sometimes wandered through. He often uses atsara as his way to refer to himself.

As for what is by far the best source (speaking as a historian) available for his stay in Tingri, it is the one published on the basis of a single manuscript long ago in Thimphu with an important English preface by Barbara Nimri Aziz. For convenience, I refer to this as the Zhijé Collection. I have also worked hard to reconstitute the scarcely legible title on the basis of evidence internal to the manuscript itself, as well as on the reading done by the cataloguer of the Nepal-German Manuscript Preservation Project, who could directly inspect the original title page. Here is my translation of this reconstituted title:  “Among the Zhijé Teachings that Lay at the Heart of the Holy Dharma, This is the Text of the Later Oral Transmission Known as The Exceptionally Profound.”

One thing I hope will be noticed here is that according to both its title and its actual content, this text is nearly 100% devoted to the so-called “Later Transmission.” Even so, a different title has been sanctioned by the Library of Congress and is still in use by the Tibetan Buddhist Resource Center (TBRC), despite my continuing objections. The title you see in TBRC is this one:  Zhi byed snga bar phyi gsum gyi skor, “Cycle of Teachings of the Early, Middle and Later Schools of Zhijé.” There is even a mistake in the normal syntax of this title, since in every case we find in the Tibetan sources the word order “Early, Later and Middle constituting three,” and never “Early, Middle and Later” as we find here. I believe this added title was invented on the basis of the Zhijé section of the Blue Annals. Still, it does not correctly label the Zhijé Collection and it should be [must be] removed.

Anyway, I will spare you the details why, but I believe I have succeeded in dating the full Zhijé Collection manuscript, on the basis of its content primarily, to more-or-less 1246 CE, with the bulk of its content copied from a previously made golden manuscript made in 1207 CE that is not known to be extant in our times.

So now let me say something about Padampa's travels.  Many sources say Padampa traveled to Tibet five or seven times. I won’t enter into this problem now. It will be quite difficult to find our way through the confusion unless we can excavate Padampa's Indian passport with its entrance and exit stamps intact. For now I will keep it simple and follow the earliest sources, the ones from the first decades of the thirteenth century and before, in saying he stayed in Tibet for three periods. The Early Transmission does not correspond to his first sojourn. The Early Transmission occurred in India. In Padampa's first Tibet sojourn he travelled by the Northern Route (Byang-lam) where he encountered two Tibetans and gave them a few precepts. As we’ll mention later, in the case of one of them Padampa not only gave, but also received instruction. Anyway, the periods of his second and third sojourns do indeed coincide with the Middle and Late Transmissions. A three-year stay in China at Wutai Shan, followed by some years back in India, came between his first and second sojourns, although some place Wutai Shan just before the third.

His second sojourn of about ten years was in Central Tibet, including both Ü and Tsang.  This was the time of the Middle Transmission lineages that you can see in the middle of this slide, where I would like to draw your attention. I should emphasize, too, that what you see here as a neat outline of the three major and three minor transmissions is a retrospective understanding dating to around the end-of-twelfth or beginning of the thirteenth century when there was an effort to search out and collect all the Zhijé lineages by three brothers of the Rog family (about them more soon). The early members of these lineages would not have known they belonged to a lineage with a name, or would be counted as part of a group called the Middle Transmission, let alone that they belonged inside the structure of an outline like this. 

So let’s leave this nicely made chart for a moment and look at what I believe is most likely the earliest discussion ever of what would one day become known as the Middle Transmission. Here “Dampa” is the common way of addressing Padampa and “Atsara,” as already noted, is a common way for Padampa to refer to himself. The person asking the question is a Tangut.

Menyag Dragsé (Me-nyag Grags-se) said, “Dampa, you are said to have spent a long period down there in Ü. How many lineage holding disciples were there?”  

Dampa replied. “The Atsara planted growing trees in the Four Horns, and the main one was planted in Ü. Kamgom Yeshé Gyeltsen (Skam-sgom Ye-shes-rgyal-mtshan) achieved revulsion from suffering, and then he could hold discussions with Maitreya. Magom Chöki Sherab (Rma-sgom Chos-kyi-shes-rab) mastered awareness so he could travel into the sky life. So Gendun Bar (So Dge-'dun-'bar) through his practice overcame the sense spheres, and could not be met face to face (reading gdong thug pa in place of gdong thub pa). Gyigom (Bgyi'-bsgom) and Drochungpa ('Bro-chung-pa) both were left silent and just put up with it (?). With Majo Chönema (Ma-jo Mchod-gnas-ma) I had nothing to do apart from a few pieces of heart advice. She is a wild woman. She was made to pair up with one Nyaggom Kholharempo (Snyags-sgom Kho-lha-rem-po). Gugom ('Gu-sgom) he mounted the horse of the Innate and travelled into the sky life. The Atsara had scarcely any lineage holders, although there were many who achieved an entry-level liberation (sgo-thar).”

There is a lot to discuss in this not-all-that-clear passage (I would appreciate your suggestions for improvement!). In all the four (or in its published form five) volumes of the Zhijé Collection, it is the only bit I could find that sheds light on the Middle Transmission (albeit without using the name) as a whole, and most remarkably is supplied as Padampa’s own words. The rare term sgo-thar at the end is one that I’ve attempted to translate as “entry-level liberation,” although I’m not sure what Padampa would have meant by it exactly. It’s possible it is sinitic in its origins, and this is a possibility I would like to explore more thoroughly some day. And of course, what may be the most interesting thing of all is Padampa’s statement that he had little to do with the “wild woman” Majo Chönema, whom everyone ought to know (despite some undeniably justifiable confusion) is none other than the one famous to all of us under her later name Machig Labdrön (Ma-gcig Lab-sgron). The name of her male companion is a very strange one, and I’m unable to identify what person lies behind it. That this is so is in itself an interesting issue for further thinking in the future.

So now my introduction is over and time is running out. I’d like to conclude with even more introductions, without yet promising anything like the closure that ought to come with conclusions.

In what remains of my allotted time, I’d like to talk about the sudden emergence of three remarkable manuscripts in Bhutan, and the illumination one of them in particular might (or might not) provide for a set of issues, primarily issues of sectarian emergence and inter-sectarian relations. I will ignore for today the Zhijé-Kagyü relationship, and the famous account of an encounter between Milarepa and Padampa that we find in the Hundred Thousand Songs of Milarepa, interesting as this, too, might be.

Here you are seeing the outwardly visible title page of a pecha loose-leaf manuscript that is preserved in the Nyingma monastery called Drametse in far eastern Bhutan. It was made available as part of the British Library's Endangered Archives Project (EAP). As the team of Karma Phuntsho filmed it, it takes up 142 folios, so it is of a quite significant size. Although difficult to enumerate because of untitled, nested texts and so on, I would say there are thirteen distinct works of various authorship contained in it. I have nothing specific to say yet about the age of the physical manuscript, which appears old. I think it will be possible to make conclusions about the making of the anthology as a whole, as it was likely done by one Benchung Gar (Ban-chung ’Gar) who appears as author of two initiation texts, including the one at the end of the collection. I haven’t been able yet to come to definite conclusions about his identity or his date.

At the moment, the most impressive thing I can say about this manuscript is that it contains three previously unexpected and unknown histories of the Middle Transmission. The first two were authored by Rog Bande (Rog Bande Shes-rab-’od, 1166‑1244). He is best known to the world today as author of the text translated by José Cabezón, The Buddha’s Doctrine and the Nine Vehicles: Rog Bande Sherab’s Lamp of the Teachings, Oxford University Press (Oxford 2013). The third history listed here, on the Ma (Rma) lineage, was done by one Chüpa (Chus-pa) on the basis of a compilation by Khugom (Khu-bsgom). I believe this places the history in the vicinity of 1200 more or less.

Rog Bande's younger brother Rog Zhigpo authored the standard history of the Later Transmission that has been available in published form for several decades now. Although much ignored in our times, it was a primary source of material for the author of the Blue Annals. The title of the first you have seen already in the previous slide. Here I’ve listed all four of the so-far known Zhijé histories set down in the decades surrounding 1200 (for present purposes excluding biographies of single Zhijé teachers, which are also surfacing in recent years).

For the time that remains I would like to stress the importance of this as well as two other Zhijé manuscript collections filmed in Bhutan. My point (for today) is mainly that they are potentially important for knowledge of sectarian emergence and inter-lineage relations in Tibetan history. The three specific areas I would like to touch upon are: [1] Zhijé relations with the Nyingmapa, [2] the Zhijé connections with teachings of the Cutting School, and [3] the puzzling relationship between Padampa and the Bon religion of Tibet.

[1] Zhijé relations with the Nyingmapa. 

There are several points spread out over nearly a millennium of Zhijé history where Nyingma contacts may be shown. Among the most prominent revivers of Zhijé teachings in recent centuries was Lochen Dharmashri at the Nyingma monastery of Mindroling, as we've noted before. But even in the earliest days we can point to the sharing of some otherwise rather unique metaphors between the Nyingma teacher Zurchungpa and Padampa. Also, a few texts in the latest layers in the Zhijé Collection (meaning late in the 12th century) start making occasional use of Nyingma-style language like Auto-emergent Full Knowledge, Rangjung Yeshé (in the forms rang-byung ye-shes as well as rang-byung-gi ye-shes), and even a quote from one of the Nyingma tantras with Great Sky (Nam mkha' che) in its title, for examples (I haven’t yet traced which of those Nyingma tantras contains the quote).

And remember, too, the philosophical treatment of the Nine Vehicles according to Nyingma School by Rog Bande that José Cabezón translated. I should have been less surprised than I was to learn from yet another Zhijé manuscript from Drametse Monastery as well as another similar collection filmed at Tsakaling, a connection between the long-lived teacher of the Rog brothers by the name of Tenné (Rten-ne) and Nyangral Nyima Özer (Myang-ral Nyi-ma-’od-zer). Even if the two were clearly contemporaries, I’d never before heard that they had come into contact. 

Although I cannot go into the problem right now, it is possible that the collection found in these two different manuscripts, one from Tsakaling and one from Drametse (quite close, but not completely identical in their content) contain what could be a somewhat earlier compilation than the Zhijé Collection, which makes them remarkably important for future textual studies and editions.

Here you see the words near the end of the Tsakaling manuscript that tell us that cycle of teachings known as the Cholu was granted by Drubthob Ngödrup (that means Tenné) to Nyang Ralpacan, and that “it” [does this mean the original collection or this manuscript??] was scribed at Mawo Chok, the place where Nyangral resided, in fact in the Tamshul valley, quite close to eastern Bhutan.

To sum up, the Bhutanese manuscripts help cement the idea that Zhijé-Nyingma connections were relatively strong and early.

[2] Zhijé connections with teachings of the Cutting School.

Although perhaps the most interesting question, we can't go into it much right now. I have long puzzled over why it is that there is scarcely more than a hint of the Cutting teachings or Machik Labdrön to be found in the Zhijé Collection. It is as if they scarcely existed for members of the Later Transmission. Yet Cutting's origins have to be sought among the lineage initiators of the Middle Transmission and Padampa’s Second Sojourn. Therefore anything we can learn about the Middle Transmission will help us attempt to trace the origins of Cutting, and for this Drametse 041 is a crucial source. As far as the two other Bhutanese manuscripts are concerned, they contain a once nearly impossible to obtain and (until a few years ago) unpublished text on Cutting in the words of Padampa himself. Its title is Brul-tsho Drug-pa. This contains teachings given by Padampa to his disciple in the Yarlung Valley named Mara Serpo (Sma-ra Ser-po). Although that may seem to undercut claims that Machig originated the Cutting practice of body offering, this remains to be seen after close study.* 

*(I’m just saying: There is promise of future progress.) 
I should add: The circa 1210 history by Rog Zhigpo says Mara Serpo and Machik both received Cutting teachings directly from Padampa. Here are its exact words (ZC IV 346):

zangs ri'i ma cig lam sgron (~ma gcig lab sgron) dang / yar lungs kyi stond pa sma ra se'o can (sma ra ser po can) la / shes rab kyi pha rol du phyind pa gcod kyi gdams pa gnang / 

I do apologize if this creates problems for anyone’s ideas about Machik’s “originality.” This is one of those very rare instances when Machik and Cutting are even mentioned in the ZC.

[3] Relationship between Padampa and the Bon religion of Tibet.

It is well known from sources on both sides of the equation that there was indeed a connection between Padampa and a Bon teacher and terton named Trotsang Druglha (Khro-tshang 'Brug-lha). The teachings went both ways, so in a sense each was the teacher of the other, only on different subjects. The teachings Padampa received from Druglha were on divination. Padampa not only received this Bon tradition, he passed it on to one of his Middle Transmission disciples, Ma Chökyi Sherab (Rma Chos-kyi-shes-rab). Most of the texts in Drametse 041 are associated with the Ma lineage. We could add that a medical text associated with it has emerged recently, but so far we have been unable to find a Ma lineage pebble divination text. But at least we do have Bon divination texts associated with Druglha in which Padampa finds mention. Alexander Smith of Paris has been studying these, and you might know of his paper on this subject. Bon sources on Druglha's life give him a long life of 121 years when he died in 1077, and this date is consistent with what we think we know about Padampa’s earlier visits to Tibet, so there doesn’t seem to be any chronological inconsistency in their meeting.

Some notes at the end:

A transmission lineage drawn from the Fifth Dalai Lama’s Gsan-yig, vol. 1, fol. 68r (demonstrating some historical continuity for the So lineage):

yang na pha dam pa nas /  dam pa so /  lkugs ring /  lde ston dge ba /  glo chen sangs rgyas /  gar thig pa bsod rgyal /  bla ma mgon po 'bum /  sa bzang 'phags pa man 'dra /  yang nye brgyud ni /  'jam dbyangs /  pha dam pa man 'dra / 

Karénina Kollmar-Paulenz, “Ma gcig Lab sgron ma:  The Life of a Tibetan Woman Mystic between Adaptation and Rebellion,” Tibet Journal, vol. 23, no. 2 (Summer 1998), pp. 1-32. This is the best and most serious discussion there is on the persons connecting Zhijé’s Middle Transmission with Cutting, although also worthy of admiration is Sarah Harding's paper at the 13th IATS seminar in Ulan Bator entitled “Did Machik Lapdrön Really Teach Chöd?” But it hasn’t been published yet, as likewise her freshly-delivered paper for the Bergen IATS, “Pha Dampa Sangye and the Alphabet Goddess.” But wait one minute, her Ulan Bator paper was published online, here.

Drametse Thorbu 105:  Section {THA} with the title: Dam pa'i gsung bzhugs s.ho / 'dzam gling mi'i skyes mchog gsung yin no.  fols. 1-3.   Colophon: rje dam pa rgya gar gyis bon po khra tshang 'brug la gnang pa'o // a ti /  This remarkable, if short, text newly indicates to us what kind of teachings Dampa Gyagar granted to Trotsang Druglha.

What would the term “north route” mean in the account of Padampa’s first sojourn? In general, we could understand it to mean various things to different writers. However, they would probably all agree that it is a route located in the northern parts of Tibet (and quite likely the Jangtang, or “Northern Plateau”) that leads to and from Ü (“Central Tibet”), whether it connects Ü to eastern, northeastern or western Tibetan areas. In Padampa’s case, it must mean a route over the northern highlands of western Tibet from Kashmir. I was a little surprised to find with an internet search a passage from Michael Sweet's fresh new translation of Desideri, pages 32-33: “...Freyre knew... that the road he was inquiring after was the well-known janglam (byang lam), the ‘northern route’ that was the customary trade route for Kashmiri merchants and others traveling between Leh and Lhasa.” This demonstrates an impressive terminological continuity. The two Tibetans he encountered were Khra-tshang ’Brug-bla and Zhang-gzhung Gling-ka-ba. The name of the latter tells us he identified with the region of Zhang-zhung, a place of greatest significance in Bon traditions.

On the Ma (Rma) family in general there has been an outstanding contribution, although primarily centering on its importance for the earlier phases in the developing history-writing traditions of Bön, by Henk Blezer: “The Paradox of Bön Identity Discourse: Some Thoughts on the rMa Clan and on the Manner of bsGrags pa bon, ‘Eternal’ Bön, New Treasures, and New Bön,” contained in: Henk Blezer & Mark Teeuwen, eds., Challenging Paradigms: Buddhism and Nativism, Brill (Leiden 2013), pp. 123-159.

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