Monastic life cuts off the distractions and emotional entanglements one becomes involved in, in the lay life.

Every country that meets Buddhism molds it into their own indigenous religion, as America will. A very clear example of this is Japan, which threw out almost all the dharma, and just kept that essence, which spoke to them.

If you want to be a doctor, you may say, There are all these beings, they're sick, they're dying, I've got to go out and help them. And so you grab a bag full of scalpels and medicine and rush off. Even though your motivation is very pure, you end up harming beings because you don't know what you're doing.

If you see young tulkus when they're with other little monks, it's like in a Broadway show or something where the main character is spotlighted and the others kind of fade into the background. And you think, who is that tulku? Because that's all you see, even though they're all dressed the same and they're all the same age, but it's like the tulku is illumined. They don't look like the other ones.

In fact there are beautiful people in this world doing incredibly selfless acts over and over and over. Dedicating their lives completely for the welfare and happiness of others.

I never really wondered about getting from London to Lahaul. It all seemed such a natural progression. In London I felt I was in the wrong place and wanted to leave. I'd thought about going to Australia or New Zealand. It's nothing against England, but I knew I wasn't meant to be there.

When one has a decisive realization of the inherent nature of the mind, which has no ego, it has no sense of duality between oneself and the cup, and a deep sense of interpenetration of the whole dharma. Then whatever we do is spontaneously perfect Buddha activity. And anybody who is even slightly tuned in will get a very deep experience of that.