Remembering a Precious One

My husband and I often refer to members of the original Washington, D.C., sangha as “POs” or Precious Ones. This is not just because they were special in their own right, but because they received their initial meditation instruction directly from the Vidyadhara, Chogyam Trungpa Rinpoche. We recently lost a Precious One, Kathie Wykowski Paul, who died of brain cancer in Halifax the night of July 14.

Maybe another description of PO would be Pioneer One. This is the D.C. sangha that received both His Holiness Karmapa XVI and the Vidyadhara, among others, in the 1970s. At the time, we were in a large house on Idaho Avenue, NW, that served as both a practice center and a group house. Some of the early sangha lived there as singles – people like Kathie Wykowski and Bob Paul, who soon married each other. And, like Kathie and Bob, a number who lived there subsequently moved to Halifax when called by the Vidyadhara.

I remember a large Gothic capital letter “D” engraved in stone over the fireplace in the living room. As a new student to practice, I assumed it was for Dharmadhatu, as in the name of the place. I later learned it was not so auspicious – the “D” was simply the first letter of the name of the family that built the house.

In the 1980s, the practice center moved to a red brick house on Van Ness Street. Marion Bond, the sangha’s comptroller at the time, moved away and needed to hand off the books to someone. It took two of us, Kathie and me, to assume her single role. We split the books in half: Receivables, with Kathie collecting money and making deposits; and Payables, with me paying the bills.

So many times I would telephone Kathie saying, “We need to pay the rent. What did you receive in dues from members?” I kept meticulous records of payables, albeit by hand in pencil on a spreadsheet, but I doubted Kathie did the same on her end. When I telephoned to learn if enough money had come in to write a check, there was always a slight hesitation as she “gathered her records.” I suspect those “records” were, in fact, scraps of paper and deposit slips stuffed in her pockets.

“Yes,” she would say, “we have enough to pay the rent and even the electric bill.” We had countless conversations like that during our hand-to-mouth existence, always with laughter. For anyone who knows the digital records and financial controls currently maintained by the Center, you must appreciate the humor in our record keeping and cash flow.

Kathie was straightforward, with keen insight and a sense of humor and always kindness. If I wanted reliable feedback I went to Kathie. She could deliver a direct response, turn your mind around, and all with this gentle laughter and kindness that never left you feeling confused.

Kathie and Bob thought we needed to sell books at the Van Ness Street location. Being in charge of payables, I was aghast at the expense. But despite my hesitation, I credit Kathie for going out on a limb. They bought $150 worth of books – at the time an unfathomable sum – and opened the still existing account with Random House, the distributor for Shambhala Publications. (As an aside, they opened the account in the name of Dharmadhatu, of course, but they must have encountered a problem over the telephone. The account today reads “Dharma Dhatu Bookstore,” as if two “dh” in a single word was just too much for the Random House agent.) Being the meticulous record keeper that I am, I carefully recorded every book sale and, over time, repaid Kathie and Bob the $150 with proceeds from the sale of books.

Now, the bookstore is a viable contributor to the operations of the Center, and I am managing it, having passed the comptroller duties into other hands. Every time I turn the proceeds from sales over to the Center, I remember the seed of that source of income came from Kathie and Bob.

I last saw Kathie when she visited the D.C. Center in the 1990s when it was on Colesville Road. I remember standing and talking with her in front of the bookstore cabinet with its volume of books for sale. She was as direct as ever, with that keen sense of humor, gently tugging at me not to be too proud of our endeavor. She dwelled in meditation practice and was pointing beyond my contribution: “I’m glad it helps a little,” I recall her saying at the time. Then she added, “By the way, how is your practice?”

Kathie went on to become the Maha-coordinator of the Scorpion Seal Assemblies at Dorje Denma Ling, and who knows what all else she did in Halifax. She never tired until illness overtook her – and never, ever retreated from practice and being herself in her own skin.

Kathie is a genuine PO and I, among others, deeply appreciate her presence among us. I wish you well on your journey, Precious One.

— Contributed by Vivi Spicer