Beyond Buddha Heads
Finding resilience in Colorado's epicenter of Buddhist philosophy
The Great Dharma Chan Monastery sits stoically by South Boulder Road, perched against the blue backdrop of the Rocky Mountains. On a brisk fall morning, around 40 people gathered before three Buddha statues in the Chan Hall, the group fostered by Boulder's rich Buddhist history and decades of growth for the religion in the west. The plan was to perform the 88 Buddhas Repentance Ceremony to practice humility and to purify the mind for renewal.
The gathered attendees were a mix of races, genders, ages, and of both practiced and layman Buddhists. Committed laypersons were dressed in black or brown robes. Everyone else was dressed in modest, casual attire to maintain respect for the space and its spiritual occupants.
Craig Parsons was in attendance that morning. Now 54, he first connected with Buddhism in fall 2003, when he decided to visit on whim a monastery he kept driving by. Parsons has been a practitioner since, and his black robes identified him as a committed student of the Dharma.
Not long ago, Parsons’ son, Zac, would participate in ceremonies like this with his father. But now it’s just Parsons in the Chan Hall, with only memories of his son and a distant nagging that wished maybe things could be different.
He took a spot at a yellow-cushioned seat paired with a gray jigsaw mat for prostrating and a bookstand with the sutras, written out in traditional Chinese, pinyin, and English.
On command, Parsons and the attendees turned to the center aisle, welcoming into the Chan Hall Abbot Jian Tan, who had just flown in from Houston. A drum and bell echoed against the wooden walls. The ceremony was about to begin.
Parsons was first introduced to Buddhism more than 20 years ago, when a friend was married at a Japanese temple. The space was connected to the traditional practices of Zen Buddhism. Someone had written in the lobby the poem “Hurt no living thing.”
I love that sentiment, Parsons thought. That was as far as the thought went. But he did keep driving by a Buddhist organization on West Alameda Avenue in Denver. So one day towards the end of 2003, Parsons decided to visit.
He walked into a class on the Dharma, or Buddha’s teachings, taught in English. The instructor asked him, “Why are you suffering right now?”
To Parsons, the answer came easily. He was working with a company that raised funds for drilling oil and gas wells. He hated the job. He hated trying to recruit people into doing something they probably never thought of doing in their life. Parsons felt that the job didn't suit him, and that caused his suffering.
“And he told me why I was wrong,” said Parsons. “Why it actually wasn’t the people at my job or my customers. And that was eye-opening to me.”
Parsons eventually found his way to a lecture about overcoming anger by a monk from the Taiwanese Buddhist order Chung Tai Shan. The lecture introduced the acronym CALM: C for causality, A for acceptance, L for listening/learning, and M for meditation.
Parsons began meditating at home, even if he could only do it for five minutes. He went to more lectures held by Chung Tai’s monks and Dharma teachers. He eventually left his oil job and returned to the car industry, where he worked, and still works, as a fleet manager.
Around this time, Noreen Parsons took her two year-old son Zac in for an appointment. The doctor noticed that there was something weird with how Zac held his sippy cup. They were referred to genetic testing. More tests were ordered as the Parsons family went home.
By the time they arrived home, Parsons’ phone rang.
“I think your son has Morquio syndrome,” said the doctor. Morquio syndrome, affecting only around 350 Americans, is an inherited birth defect that impairs a child’s bones and organs.
At the time, Parsons struggled to understand what the doctor meant, so he went for the bottom line, something concrete that he could understand.
“Is he going to be in pain?”
“Yes,” said the doctor.
“Is there any treatment for this?”
“There is only treatment for pain through surgery. There is no cure,” said the doctor. “Your son is going to be in pain, he’s going to be in a wheelchair, and he’s going to die early.”
Buddhist philosophy is about suffering: learning its innate causes and how to alleviate it. Teachings in practice often focus on cultivating compassion and accumulating good karma with the belief that consequences from actions can follow a person through many lifetimes. Practice in meditation and mindfulness are tools to understand suffering and obtain enlightenment.
Buddhism generally takes three forms, or “vehicles.” Two of the three can be found in Boulder: Mahayana from China and Japan as Chan and Zen Buddhism, and Vajrayana from Tibet as Tantric or Tibetan Buddhism.
Following multiple revolts of Tibet against the People's Republic of China in the 1950s, the 14th Dalai Lama was exiled to India, forcing him to call on Tibetan master and Buddhist monk Chögyam Trungpa Rinpoche to help spread the teachings of the Lama to the Western world.
Trungpa came to the United States in 1970 and made his move to Boulder in the same year at the invitation of the University of Colorado Boulder. There, he taught for 15 years, during that time also traveling around the United States, Canada, and Europe in hopes of expanding Buddhist principles.
Trungpa established Karma Dzong, now known as the Shambhala Center, by 1973 as an institution for formal study and shared meditation spaces. The next year, he formally established the Naropa Institute, one of the first accredited Buddhist institutions in the U.S.
Today, Boulder is an epicenter of Buddhism, made unique by its blend of traditional practices and Western thought.
Tenzin Tsepak, a Professor of Asian Studies at the University of Colorado Boulder who teaches a class on the West’s fascination with Tibet, concedes that Trungpa’s teachings of Buddhism in Boulder were not how a Buddhist master would traditionally explain Buddhism to a native Tibetan. Trungpa was able to adapt his teachings to this white American audience and try new things.
“That really resonated with the American audience, Western thinking and sensibilities,” said Tsepak. “Buddhism is morphing, changing, adapting to the local culture.”
In his studies of the West’s fascination with Tibet, he began to understand the space as a conjunction of Buddhist landscape and religious manifestation in its physical environment.
“It’s not just the people, history and culture, but the landscape too,” said Tsepak. “Tibetan practices are rooted in the landscape, the natural mountains and lakes are so important. Here in Boulder, the landscape reinforces it.”
Boulder also has a strong Chan and Zen Buddhism presence, with places such as the Hakubai Zen Center having a circle of small but dedicated supporters.
Alxe Noden has practiced Tibetan Buddhism for 35 years and is working on a documentary about how Buddhism is adapting to U.S. cultural contexts. She also owns the property on which Hakubai Zen Center sits, opposite of which is a peach-colored trailer that functions as her office.
“In the United States, there’s a kind of division between the way it looks for immigrant communities, the ethnic practice of Buddhism, and what it looks like for Westerners,” said Noden.
Noden thinks that the minority of people who approach Buddhism are drawn to it superficially, either because it’s exotic or it’s something they can say they practice to impress neighbors. Some people just misunderstand the practice.
“There are a lot of people who think that Tantra, for example, is all about sex,” said Noden. “It's nothing to do with sex. Really, it's everything to do with death.
With such a strong spiritual background for the region, supporters of Chung Tai Shan—Parsons included—wanted a space for meditation and practice in the Front Range. But building something that big takes time and money.
In the meantime, Parsons was urged to practice meditation at home, be it through chanting Buddhist scriptures known as sutras, or by practicing mindfulness.
Parsons recounted what one of the monks said to him. “Everything you do, just bring your attention to it. Be aware of it. Don't wish you were doing something else while you're doing it. Don't be sad when it ends. Just notice what you're doing.”
Over the years, Parsons has meditated sitting down, doing the dishes, walking, and even while writing work emails.
Supporters of Chung Tai in the Boulder/Denver area would regularly invite masters, or shifus, from other Chung Tai locations in the country and beyond to come visit and give talks. Parsons regularly went to these events.
And soon, Zac started tagging along. He began attending the childrens’ meditation classes and enjoyed them. He went to Buddhist ceremonies with his father. He made friends there and connected with the teachings, too.
Eventually, Zac started participating in clinical trials for enzyme replacement therapy. He would fly out to Oakland frequently with his mother for the treatment. It wouldn’t cure him, but it helped him breathe more easily.
Many people noted that Zac had a kindness and wisdom to him beyond his years.
“Many people said to me, he's your bodhisattva,” said Parsons. “Bodhisattva is someone who wants to awaken herself, or she wants to awaken others. And I think that that was one of the things that Zac really wanted to do is to help awaken me. He and I talked about the truth all of our lives, that we all face illness, aging and death. It’s a truism.”
Buddhism as a religion and philosophy has gained significant traction in the U.S. in the past few decades. The number of practicing Buddhists rose by 170% between 1990 and 2000, according to the American Religious Identity Survey. In 2022, 1.2% of the population of the United States identified as Buddhist. That’s between three to four million Buddhists in America.
According to the Pew Research Center, only 1% of Colorado Residents practice Buddhism. Spiritual epicenters of the religion are mostly located in the vicinity of the Rocky Mountains, and include Boulder, Colorado Springs, and Durango.
Ricky Rey Schlussel is a practicing Zen Buddhist in the Denver area who has spent the last 10 years traveling and participating in various Buddhist retreats, and has recently deepened his practice and ritual in repeating the recognition that there is nothing to change or become, that happiness is already here.
“I left my job in March, basically recognizing that I had this spiritual void,” said Schlussel.
“I had fallen into a trap, a common one, of being conditioned to see myself as separate from everything,” Schlussel said. He most recently worked as an engineer for NASA, and was responsible for testing equipment and machinery that is part of the Artemis mission, getting the U.S. back to the moon. Schlussel also spent four years in the military, working on space operations.
“A large part of my journey was resting on the belief that if I could just achieve some career milestone, I would finally feel whole and happy,” said Schlussel. “But there’s only so many times you can make that mistake before you see it for what it is.”
Schlussel recently returned from a residency retreat at a Zen monastery in Santa Fe, NM. For him, these retreats strengthen his devotion to the practice, and it’s been a way for him to stop blaming the world and others for his state of mind.
As a practicing Buddhist who is white, Schlussel has reflected on and acknowledged the assumption that aesthetics are a prominent part of Western Buddhism. For him, the aesthetic is integrated with the philosophy, and he doesn’t think they are separate.
“The central thing is the practice, but there is something about the simplicity and severity of Zen,” Schlussel said.
He recently felt self-righteous and defensive for questioning the decorative imagery, including sculptures and art, in his non-practicing Buddhist parent’s home. He’s found that this mentality really misses the point of what it’s all about.
“Buddhism really represents acceptance and welcoming. If people find common ground in identification with Buddhist symbols, that’s great.”
Schlussel says that one of the most valuable things we do as humans is share; ideas, creations. “In appreciating the aesthetic, they may find interest in philosophy. That extends beyond Buddhism,” said Schlussel.
The Great Dharma Chan Monastery began construction in 2020 and finally opened its doors in late 2022 to people from all walks of life. The monastery hosts a main meditation hall, a residential building, and a Zen garden to allow people to find peace, and to benefit from all that Buddhism has to offer.
Jeff Steward, a volunteer there, said that he found his way to Buddhism after he became dissatisfied with always hearing “It’s God’s plan” in Christianity.
He saw Buddhist meditation was a way to help people address and navigate through modern societal problems. “We need a way to calm the temperature externally, but the only way to do that is to calm down internally.”
The Great Dharma Chan Monastery is a branch of the Chung Tai Chan Monastery in Taiwan. The Chung Tai Chan Monastery was constructed in 1992 following the popularity and teachings of Grand Master Weichueh, who studied the Dharma his entire life. He came out of practicing in seclusion in the mountains of Wanli, Northern Taiwan to spread Dharma.
Ordained monastics, known as shifus, live on the monastery grounds. They are supported by donations and practice strict adherence to the Buddhist five precepts—no killing, no stealing, no sexual misconduct, no lying, and no intoxication—among other vows.
In addition to guiding members of the monastic community through meditation and teachings, the Great Dharma Chan Monastery hosts traditional ceremonies, one being the 88 Buddhas Repentance Ceremony. The ceremony’s dozens of prostrations is meant to teach humility, to help the person let go of their ego and embrace compassion.
Parsons and Zac got to visit the monastery in September 2022 before it was officially open to the public. They brought vegan tart cherry turnovers for the monks. They didn’t see any monks out and about because they were chanting in the Chan Hall, and the calming voices echoed throughout the building.
“Dad, I feel like a kid in a candy store!” said Zac. Parsons asked him why. Zac responded with, “It’s all here!”
It would be the last time Parsons got to visit the monastery with his son.
Zac died on Oct. 5, 2022. He was with his father, his mother Noreen, his elder sister Alaina, and his favorite nurse, Emily.
The family observed Buddhist tradition to not disturb the body for eight hours.
Parsons called one of the Chung Tai monks to inform him of Zac’s passing. The monk called on Parsons’ Dharma brothers and they arrived at the Parsons house. In that last hour without disturbance, Parsons, his family and friends were present, and the monks chanted for Zac. It was a way to help calm his soul as he moved onto what life was next.
“When he died, I felt like I lost three people,” said Parsons. “I felt like I lost my son, my friend, and my Dharma brother.”
When Parsons sat down to meditate, he found himself replaying the events around Zac’s death over and over. “It looked like me thinking, I wish I would have said this, I wish I would have done this, I wish I would have been better at this.”
He turned to the masters for help. They told him to go back to the very beginning, and recommended breath meditation as it was a form of meditation that had an object for focus.
“I think it would be easy, especially at this point, to say, ‘Oh, yes, you know, Zac died and my mind remained perfectly clear, like a bright mirror.’ But that's not true. I told you the truth. It really hurt.”
Parsons and Zac also had an agreement: when one of them dies first, the other would practice for 49 days and dedicate the merit to the soul that passed.
Parsons kept his word. He meditated, recited sutras, ate vegetarian food and performed various acts of kindness. He dedicated all that merit to his son. He returned to basic meditation practices and worked his way up from there.
Now, over a year after Zac’s passing, Parsons feels more still.
“A couple of weeks ago, I heard Zac’s voice say, ‘It's time to move on, Dad.’ And I was like, I understand. You know, I get that. And then that's how I feel.” ▣▣