A Household Shrine Room

My father sent me his prayer altar from Nepal just before he passed away. By the time it reached me he had already died. It was re-blessed by monks here in Queens. He sent all the religious artifacts including all the statues and thangkas. There were nine boxes.

The shrine room is where my father did his daily practice. He taught me the seven bowl water offering and some short prayers, which I recite every morning. I light candles as we do not have butter lamps. On weekdays, due to the shortage of time, I bow down to my shrine, touching the altar with my forehead for blessings. On weekends and holidays, I do the full prayers that my late father taught me, including mani mantra and prayers for Tara. 

All the objects here are equally important to me. But the one that stands out most is the Dorje Sempa (a bodhisattva also known as Vajrasattva in Sanskrit). My son passed away three years ago. In Tibetan Buddhism, we do an astrological reading for the deceased to have a better next life, and we make a statue according to the astrology. For my late son, Dorje Sempa was his symbol. This sculpture therefore has a deep connection to my heart as a mother.

My shrine room reminds me of my late father who used to take us for a pilgrimage to Bodhgaya, the place where the Buddha attained enlightenment, every winter vacation during my school years. His Holiness the Dalai Lama gave the Kalachakra empowerment and many other teachings that my father used. After moving to the United States, for 20 years I did not have the opportunity to go on pilgrimage.

After my son passed away, I took his ashes following the Buddha’s footsteps from the place where the Buddha was born in Lumbini to the place where he died in Kushinagara, as well as Bodhgaya. I ended my pilgrimage in the Deer Park in Varanasi where the Buddha gave his first teaching.