It’s been more than a year since we shared our stories of abuse within Shambhala, the Buddhist organization at the center of The Denver Post’s recent stories on the coverup of sexual abuse allegations. Our personal accounts were part of the three-part Buddhist Project Sunshine, the investigation that last year shined a light on Shambhala’s underbelly.

This is the first time that we have shared our names; the year brought upheaval to both of us and we are still dealing with difficult emotions. We and two other women, Nancy Floy and Allya Canepa, who helped write this piece, have spent time together trying to make sense of our experiences.

Shambhala — founded in Boulder and now headquartered in Halifax, Nova Scotia — has 14,000 members and more than 200 meditation centers and groups around the world. Collectively we have 68 years of experience with the organization, which we have all left. Two of us are still on a Buddhist path with other teachers, two are no longer practicing.

Our departures from Shambhala’s inner circles over the past 15 or so years ranged from liberating to devastating: some of us felt the heartbreak of separating from family, others felt the relief of having escaped a cult.

As we described in the sunshine reports, we reported being subjected to various forms of clergy abuse. Some of us reported being brought into the quarters of our teacher, the spiritual head of Shambhala, Mipham J. Mukpo—often called Sakyong Mipham Rinpoche—to have intercourse and perform oral sex. Others reported being asked to hand over our homes.

More victims have spoken out since the project’s publication last year, including those who say they were molested as children by teachers in Shambhala and inner-circle attendants disturbed by their teachers’ egotism, cruelty, and excesses in alcohol, spending and sex. We are grateful to them and to all who have genuinely supported us. We thank The Denver Post for persisting in its coverage a whole year after the news first broke.

Yet we are increasingly concerned that the revelations about our former teacher and others now accused of crimes in Boulder County will not lead to lasting changes. We fear that our accounts will be brushed aside, lost in the news cycle. We fear that we and others who have been harmed will be blamed for our experiences, some of which were life-shattering. We fear the abusers will continue to abuse.

We are calling on Mupko to step down permanently. Over the last year, he quietly moved into the background, letting some students dissolve their vows while holding fast to others who remained loyal. He inherited Shambhala from his father, Chogyam Trungpa Rinpoche, and, like his father, he teaches a vision of enlightened society. Sadly, his abusive behavior belies a fundamental corruption that hungers for power and servitude. To us and others who have reached his inner circle, his absence of empathy and self-awareness is glaring.

It is time for anyone in a position of power in Shambhala who knew about and supported Mupko’s abusive behaviors, whether actively or passively, to step down. This includes dozens of acharyas, shastris, teachers, administrators and members of the kasung. Their silence in the face of allegations of clergy abuse, sexual abuse and child sex abuse is abhorrent. It’s a stance that reflects a dangerous unwillingness to question their leader and a manifest disregard for real lives.

It is also time for both wider public dialogue and decisive action — within the organization, at local centers worldwide, and at Shambhala’s sister institution, Naropa University. We urge Naropa to organize a public forum that would feature panel discussions on clergy abuse in this and other Buddhist communities alongside a group healing process that does not marginalize survivors. What better opportunity for the university to demonstrate its academic integrity and independence from Shambhala?

It is time to ask what the future holds. Have the teachers tainted the teachings beyond remedy? Is there a way to preserve the lineage—whose language, practices and purposes still profoundly resonates with many? Some of us say yes, some say no. The answer will depend on Shambhala’s willingness to embrace a new relationship to power.

Tess Elliott is a Naropa graduate and the co-owner and editor of the Point Reyes Light. She lives in Inverness, Calif., with her partner and two children. Catherine Pilfrey is an art director living with her partner in Boston. She was a member of the Shambhala community for over 25 years, serving in many leadership roles and as an attendant to Mipham Mukpo.

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