What this covers
In today's episode, Gen Kelsang Gomlam delves into the profound and often uncharted territory of death and dying. Having worked as a nurse for over 30 years, she has experience of helping others to die, and more recently faced up to the possibility of her own death. As a Buddhist nun, she shares insights into what actually happens when we die and how that understanding positively affected her own life. This episode is insightful and uplifting and offers a unique way of thinking about death; fear is removed and replaced by a vitality that gives meaning to the time that is left of this life. In a society that frequently shies away from discussions about mortality, it is refreshing to bring these essential conversations to the forefront.
00:00 Introduction 01:15 Exploring Hospice Nursing in Rural New Mexico: Challenges and Rewards 04:00 What Really Happens When We Die? Understanding the death process 07:42 The Nature of Consciousness: What Is the Mind? 12:17 Healing Through Compassion: Overcoming Pain and Suffering 18:38 Unlocking the Power of the Mind: Your Best Protector Against Adversity 22:25 Preparing for the Inevitable: A Guide to Acceptance and Peace at Death 35:45 Discovering the Limitless Potential of the Human Mind 45:54 Preparing the mind for Open Heart Surgery 51:05 Making a Difference: How Can We Contribute Positively to the World?
Book references Joyful Path of Good Fortune: https://kadampa.org/book/joyful-path-of-good-fortune Living Meaningfully Dying Joyfully: https://kadampa.org/book/living-meaningfully-dying-joyfully
Gen Gomlam is the Resident Teacher in Kadampa Meditation Center Florida https://meditationinsarasota.org/.
The participants of these podcasts are practicing meditation according to the New Kadampa Tradition, which has over a thousand meditation centers worldwide. See more https://kadampa.org/
WANT MORE? Find a meditation center near you https://kadampa.org/nkt-center-search/?lang=en Listen to teaching clips: youtube.com/nktikbu https://open.spotify.com/show/5QPCFEyZz74nOHZbQr1B4z
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Gen Kelsang Gomlam argues that understanding the mind's continuity beyond physical death and developing mental discipline through Buddhist practice transforms how we live—replacing fear with freedom and enabling a meaningful life focused on compassion and inner development rather than bodily concerns.
- The mind is not the brain and continues after bodily death, which can be understood through Buddhist teachings and validated through direct experience in hospice work
- Cultivating a positive, compassionate mind provides protection from suffering at death and ensures a beneficial continuation, making spiritual development more valuable than physical interventions
- Facing death directly through contemplation liberates us from worldly anxiety and enables us to live meaningfully by reducing personal negativity and increasing compassion in our relationships
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Natural death at home without medical intervention can take much longer than expected; the dying process can last 27 hours or more, and clinical assessments of death based on vital signs can be unreliable, requiring patience and observation.
“The first natural death that I witnessed, I thought, okay. I kept looking at my watch...None of my clinical skills worked...And it took, I think, 27 hours.”
In Buddhist teachings, faith is based on two foundations: logical reasoning and one's own direct experience, rather than blind belief or dogma, making Buddhism compatible with scientific thinking and empirical validation.
“I learned that people that, in Buddhism, faith was based on logical reasonings...And number two, your own experience.”
A compassionate mind protecting someone from suffering can pacify pain—specifically, the woman with ovarian cancer and bowel obstruction who had little pain and discomfort because her mind was devoted to her husband rather than focused on her body.
“Her mind was one of the most compassionate minds I've ever known. She was a big teacher for me. And I grew a lot watching the power of somebody being completely focused on benefiting someone else. That it actually had the power to pacify her pain. And that pain, I knew very well, she should not have been pain-free. How did that happen?”
Some people die with extreme physical pain yet experience even greater mental suffering because they lack knowledge of how to work with their mind, creating a compounded suffering that is worse than physical pain alone.
“I saw people die with unbelievable physical pain. And if they didn't know what to do with their mind, they had unbelievable mental pain. And it was a horrific exit.”
Buddhist faith is based on logical reasoning and personal experience, not blind belief; this two-fold foundation appeals to scientifically-minded people and allows spiritual understanding to be validated through both reasoning and direct observation.
“I learned that people that, in Buddhism, faith was based on logical reasonings. I like that. And number two, your own experience. And I like that. As a scientifically kind of based person, those two ways of developing faith for me, worked.”
The positive people around you and the care experienced during a stressful event like surgery creates a very different internal experience than fear, making the same external event subjectively completely different based on internal mental state.
“These people are so kind. They're so loving. I feel like I'm so cared for. When you go under anesthesia with that, mine is very different from, I'm freaked out.”
Compassion focused on the suffering of others and the wish for it to cease has the power to protect the mind from suffering during dying, regardless of physical pain or disease, as demonstrated in the case of the atheist professor with terminal ovarian cancer who remained pain-free without medication through her focused compassion for her husband.
“her compassion alone kept her mind, her mind was peaceful, devoted to him. She was not focused on herself at all...her mind was one of the most compassionate minds I've ever known...Her mind actually had the power to pacify her pain.”
The belief that one will have a long life due to family longevity, good health, or good genetics lacks logical foundation, as many young people die unexpectedly from accidents, and death can come at any age regardless of life expectancy statistics.
“There's an illusion that you're only going to die if you get old. That's ridiculous. Now, that was always negated in hospice. We had babies on hospice. We had teenagers on hospice. People don't think that because we sort of think, okay, I'm going to have a long life because everybody in my family has. There's no logic for that statement.”
The mind is not the brain; the brain dies with the body, but the mind continues.
“The mind is not the brain. And the brain dies with the body. And the mind continues.”
The quality of one's thoughts and mental state has effects beyond oneself; one peaceful, positive person in the world makes a difference to those around them, analogous to how one healthy cell affects the whole body.
“The quality of my thoughts, the caliber of my attitude, is it positive, is it negative? It does make a difference. It makes a difference to the people around you, to your world, your personal world.”
Despite spending 20 years in high-tech cardiac nursing and open-heart surgery, Gomlam was not prepared for natural death in hospice; natural death required her to relinquish control and learn from the dying process rather than manage it.
“I was used to controlling that. We control that in a hospital setting in many ways. Whether it's taking people off a ventilator or trying to save their life if they have an arrest. I was mostly doing that. The first natural death that I witnessed, I thought, okay. I kept looking at my watch. I was like, okay, there are no vital signs. And the family was surrounding this woman. And I thought she was gone. But she kept living. And it took, I think, 27 hours.”
The woman's clinical supervisor said she was 'ridiculous' for not encouraging stronger pain medication, but the woman persisted in her choice, indicating a conflict between medical protocol (pain management) and patient autonomy (choosing purpose and compassion over medication).
“And my clinical supervisor said, this is ridiculous. You need to encourage her to take medicine. I said, well, I did, but she doesn't want any.”
Most people assume they will live long lives because other family members have (genetic continuity assumption) or because they are currently healthy, but this is logically unsound because death can occur at any time and does occur to young people, babies, and teenagers.
“There's an illusion that you're only going to die if you get old. That's ridiculous. Now, that was always negated in hospice. We had babies on hospice. We had teenagers on hospice. People don't think that because we sort of think, okay, I'm going to have a long life because everybody in my family has. There's no logic for that statement.”
Gen's mother said she saw no reason to think about death because she couldn't do anything about it, but Gen recognized this as a common rationalization that people use to avoid confronting their mortality.
“My own mom, she used to say, well, I don't see any reason to think about death because I can't do anything about it. I thought, well, yeah, that's what a lot of people think.”
A positive, peaceful mind protects from suffering at the moment of death when the body is disintegrating; this is a measurable difference between people who know how to work with their mind and those who don't, regardless of pain medication.
“I saw people die with unbelievable physical pain. And if they didn't know what to do with their mind, they had unbelievable mental pain. And it was a horrific exit. So I got to see the difference.”
Meditation on death and impermanence—specifically contemplating 'I may die today'—produces a feeling of freedom that liberates the mind from worry and worldly concerns, allowing people to focus on what truly matters.
“when I contemplate that, when I meditate, the feeling is freedom. Freedom from all the things I'm worried about, all the things I'm obsessing about that might happen tomorrow because now I feel free. Free from all those worldly concerns if I'm deepening that experience and I'm free to live my best life today”
Gomlam experienced an immediate clinical change in her hospice practice within the first few months of attending Buddhist teachings, even without explicitly introducing Buddhist ideas to patients—her internal shift in perspective changed how she cared for people.
“But what happened is almost immediately, I don't mean that night or that week, but within the first few months, my clinical practice started to change. There's just a little part of me that felt I was getting an answer. So my curiosity, along with my compassion, were increasing as I was in the death arena. And in the next year, two years, where I was constantly attending these classes about the mind and learning how to work with your mind, make it more positive, especially when you're dying. I thought, yes, that's what I need to help people do.”
The atheist professor's death was 'quite remarkable' and 'pretty smooth,' and her compassion—not medical intervention or pain management—was the reason her death was 'pretty much pain-free,' according to Gomlam's clinical assessment.
“It was a very peaceful, powerful death. And her compassion, I believe, was the reason that her death was pretty much pain-free. I know people would think I was crazy saying that. It was true. To me, it was a big teaching about the mind of compassion.”
Buddhist teachings identify three levels of mind and teach that a very subtle mind continues after death, which Gen came to understand as potentially the explanation for what she had been observing as 'something leaves' the body in every death she witnessed.
“And then I heard something very remarkable. The mind is not the brain. And I'm like, what? The mind is not the brain. And the brain dies with the body. And the mind continues. Well, I was hooked. I thought, okay, this might be it. So then I learned a little bit more about the levels of mind. And my scientific faith was validated. I thought, yeah, of course. This feels scientific. It doesn't feel religious to me. It's just about my mind. And I wonder if that very subtle mind that she's talked about. Maybe that's what continues. Maybe that's what I've been seeing.”
Medical textbooks and scientific literature do not adequately explain what happens at the moment of death or what 'leaving' means, so hospice workers and medical professionals lack scientific explanations for the observable phenomenon that something departs from the body at death.
“My hospice colleagues. I would ask them things like, what happens? What does science say? What happens when people die? No one had any answers. So I started reading medical literature.”
The mind is not the brain; the brain dies with the body but the mind continues beyond death, and this subtle level of mind is what actually constitutes our identity.
“The mind is not the brain. And the brain dies with the body. And the mind continues.”
Gomlam was terrified of death as a child and throughout her healthcare career, though hospice work did not directly address her own fear—it took Buddhist spiritual practice to transform that fear.
“I think that for me personally, even as a little girl, I was terrified of death. I don't think it's uncommon for people to go into health care, and especially hospice, because they had this huge fear of death. To be honest, I think all of us have it on some level.”
Nursing training in clinical care (intensive care, cardiac surgery, hospice) focused on the body and did not provide understanding of how to help people psychologically prepare for death or manage fear through mental training.
“I'd spend a lot of time taking care of people physically, which wasn't enough. I'd learn that what you really need to do is take care of the mind, the part that doesn't die.”
Western medical science and nursing education do not teach that mental states (compassion, peace, acceptance) can reduce physical pain and suffering, creating a gap where Buddhist teachings about the mind are clinically relevant but unavailable.
“I saw people die with unbelievable physical pain. And if they didn't know what to do with their mind, they had unbelievable mental pain. And it was a horrific exit.”
Most people die peacefully in hospice settings when they have strong faith or spiritual belief, and this observation from Gen's rural hospice work was a powerful validation of the connection between mental/spiritual state and quality of death.
“Most of the people I had seen die in a peaceful way in the rural area. They had strong faith. That's a whole other story.”
Observing the phenomenological fact that 'something leaves' at death—a visible transformation despite absence of measurable vital signs—is meaningful data that scientific inquiry should address, even though it seems unscientific to describe it that way.
“And then she was gone. And even with that first death, because it was such a long one. And it was my first one. A natural death. I thought, what is it that leaves? I was very curious by this. And so I kind of kept that. That was like a backdrop of all my experiences over the next years. And I kept seeing that happen over and over again.”
Understanding death deeply through contemplation and meditation on impermanence produces freedom from worldly worries and concerns, because recognizing that death could come today liberates one from anxiety about future outcomes and enables living fully in the present.
“Freedom from all the things I'm worried about, all the things I'm obsessing about that might happen tomorrow because now I feel free...I'm free to live my best life today because I think that's the bit...if you really take this deep to heart, it does liberate the mind.”
A meaningful life is defined not by external accomplishments but by removing negativity from one's own sphere of influence and infusing positivity; this creates a meaningful life regardless of circumstance and ensures one has no regrets at death.
“And that if you live your life to take your own negativity out of this world and infuse your own positivity, that's a meaningful life, isn't it? If we learn how to, I want to take my negativity out of my family. I want to take my negativity out of my community. We just keep it local. And we think, well, isn't that a meaningful life?”
Three key questions from Geshe Kelsang's teaching—'What is the most meaningful thing I could do with my life? What will make me happy now? What will benefit others most? And when my life is over, what will help me then?'—guide the choice to develop the mind through spiritual practice rather than pursue external goals.
“With so much freedom, what will make me happy now? What will benefit others most? And when my life is over, what will help me then? I never forgot. That helped me so much.”
A meaningful life is one that pursues three interconnected goals: doing something that brings happiness now, something that benefits others most, and something that will help when one's life is over—the last being spiritual development and mind training that ensures continuity of consciousness.
“With so much freedom, what will make me happy now?...What will benefit others most?...And when my life is over, what will help me then?...The answer is spiritual development. Which means changing my mind, making my mind more positive, more peaceful.”
Buddhist teachings specify the distant and close signs of death, including symptoms like hiccuping when urinating, which can be medically unusual or frightening to patients but become normalized when understood through Buddhist medical knowledge, providing psychological comfort and reducing fear.
“I opened this, the signs of death...Buddha explains precisely the distant and close signs of death...one of the distant signs of death is hiccuping when you're passing your water.”
People commonly report 'something leaves' or 'they left' when describing the moment of a loved one's death, suggesting a universal intuition about the departure of something non-physical, even among non-spiritual or scientific people.
“And I actually asked different people, what do you think at the end? You know, when you lost your loved one or even your pet? And I sort of solicited that same answer. I don't know - something leaves. They left. They left.”
The mind is formless and limitless, meaning that if one's identity is understood as the mind rather than the body, one has access to unlimited potential and is not confined to the single life of the body, which liberates people from fear and existential boredom.
“one of the many cool things you learn about the mind is that it's formless and it's limitless...If I'm really not my body. And I really am my mind. And my mind is limitless...I'm limitless.”
A single person who works to eliminate their own negativity and infuse positivity into their relationships and immediate world does make a meaningful difference that ripples outward to their family and community, comparable to a single healthy cell improving the health of an entire organism.
“if one cell is unhealthy, the whole body will be affected. If one cell is healthy, the whole body is affected...The quality of my thoughts, the caliber of my attitude...It does make a difference. It makes a difference to the people around you.”
Knowledge of how to work with the mind can help people who are not spiritual or religious, because experiencing peace from someone who has such knowledge gives confidence and reduces fear even without requiring belief in any doctrine.
“There were some rough parts. But that was a person who didn't have any belief. And just knowing someone that did. And giving her some confidence that it's not the end.”
Gen's clinical practice as a hospice nurse changed immediately upon beginning Buddhist studies—within the first few months her curiosity and compassion increased despite never verbally or practically introducing Buddhist ideas to patients, indicating the teachings were transforming her internal orientation to her work.
“I never brought any of my new interest verbally or practically to the arena. But in my heart, I was really a different nurse.”
The fact that Gen Kelsang had no medical/physical way to help the first hospice patient she cared for—no ventilators, no physicians, only herself and nursing tools—forced her to develop different capacities and taught her valuable lessons about the limits of medical technology.
“I had no machines. I had no physicians. I had nothing but just myself and my good heart and a few little nursing tools to help people actually die at home...I had to learn...I had to experience death, the dying process.”
Understanding that there is a 'deathless part' of the mind—a subtle, deep level of consciousness—provides comfort and reduces fear of death, making it a functional and knowable aspect of consciousness rather than something abstract.
“Once you find that out, and that it is a functional, it's a level of your mind, it's not something that we can't understand or know, or experience. And I felt so much comfort in that, learning that there is a deathless part. It's not functionless. It's actually, I'd like to just say, probably who we really are.”
Buddhist teachings describe specific distant and close signs of death that are clinically accurate; for example, hiccuping during urination is a distant sign of death that was not taught in nursing school but was found to be helpful in calming patients when explained as a normal dying process.
“I had read in Buddhist teachings that one of the distant signs of death is hiccuping when you're passing your water. And I had done that not too many days before this guy said to me. He leaned over privately, because his family was there. And he said, I'm really scared. I have hiccuping every time I go to the bathroom. And I was able to say to him, that's completely normal. Don't worry, Harry. And he just relaxed.”
When preparing for open-heart surgery, focusing the mind on protecting one's peace, compassion, and awareness of others is more valuable than any physical preparation, because 'the body is having surgery, not the mind.'
“My job, if we use the analogy, maybe extend it a little bit, is that the thing that makes the car work is the driver. So the thing that makes my body work is my mind. I need to work with that. Because it's not having surgery. My body is having surgery.”
Identifying with a limitless mind rather than a limited body is 'outrageous' and transforms how one relates to existence—from feeling constrained to feeling unlimited.
“So you start to identify with a new person that's limitless. And I thought to myself, limitless. If that's who I really am. If I'm really not my body. And I really am my mind. And my mind is limitless. I thought, that's outrageous. I'm limitless.”
Spiritual development means inner development—learning about your mind, controlling your thoughts, making them more positive—which is distinct from religious dogma and rhetoric, making it scientifically and practically focused on the mechanism of mental training.
“From what I loved about another thing about Buddha's teachings is that spiritual just meant inner development. It wasn't like dogma and rhetoric and all that stuff that I was hesitant about, skeptical. But it was more about inner development, developing your mind, learning about your mind, controlling your thoughts, making them positive.”
Gen's fear of death was significant as a child and remained throughout her nursing career, even though hospice work exposed her constantly to dying; the professional arena of hospice did not address death anxiety because hospice is a physical practice, not a spiritual one, leaving the personal fear unresolved.
“I think that for me personally, even as a little girl, I was terrified of death. I don't think it's uncommon for people to go into health care, and especially hospice, because they had this huge fear of death.”
Gen was grateful when she finally encountered what appeared to be natural death of the woman who lived for 27 hours after loss of vital signs, which was a 'normal death at home,' and she felt something leave even in that case.
“And then it finally happened. Just a normal death at home. And I felt even then, something leaves.”
When Gen was searching for answers to the question of what leaves at death, she started reading medical literature and got fixated on this question, and was surprised that no one in the medical field seemed curious about it.
“So I started reading medical literature. And I was a little bit... I was sort of fixated on this. And I thought it was curious that no one was curious.”
The ability to stay positive, peaceful, and compassionate at the moment of death determines the quality of consciousness that continues into the next moment or next life, making mental preparation more important than physical preparation for medical procedures or death.
“If I keep my mind positive, I'll benefit myself, because I'll be happy...And when my life is over, what will help me then? The only thing that's going to help me is a mind that's positive. Because it's my mind that's going to go to future lives.”
Buddha is best understood as a scientist who conducted systematic investigations into the nature of mind and death and discovered precise explanations for how consciousness works, rather than as a religious figure.
“I found, for me, that Buddha became the ultimate scientist...I understand that now from the great scientist, Buddha. He's explained exactly what happens when my body dies, that my mind doesn't.”
Gen Kelsang's use of the analogy 'I'm taking my body into the shop for some body work' and distinguishing between 'my body having surgery' and 'I am having surgery' represents a practical way to maintain non-identification with the body and focus on protecting the mind during medical crisis.
“I used it when I was giving my last teaching at the center...I'm just taking my body into the shop for some body work...the thing that makes my body work is my mind. I need to work with that. Because it's not having surgery. My body is having surgery.”
Most people go into healthcare or hospice work to overcome or process their own deep fear of death without conscious awareness of this motivation.
“A lot of people go into hospice in order to, I think, get over their fear of dying. I probably did. But I didn't know that.”
Gen's mother, who was not spiritual and said she didn't see any reason to believe in Buddhism, nevertheless observed Gen's transformation over her lifetime and said at the end of her life that if she were younger she would probably practice Buddhism because of what she saw in Gen's behavior.
“She was not spiritual. But at the end of her life, she said to me, You know, I've never been religious. But if I was a little bit younger, I'd probably do this Buddhist thing. Because she watched me. She said, You know, you're the daughter that I always wanted.”
Going into surgery, Gomlam was 'okay to die and okay to live'—she had no strong attachment to the outcome—and she achieved 'about as fearless as you could be, and about as happy as you could be,' having applied her 23 years of Buddhist practice.
“I was okay to die. And I was okay to live. I didn't know. Either way, I would say that I was about as fearless as you could be, and about as happy as you could be. And I never thought that would be possible.”
Focusing on one's potential and what can happen by working with the mind at many levels provides endless engagement and removes boredom; Gomlam has not been bored since encountering Kadampa Dharma, addressing a subtle existential fear.
“If I focus on my potential and what can happen by working with my mind at so many levels. Never get bored. I used to be afraid of being bored. Since I've met Kadampa Dharma, I've never been bored.”
After 23 years of Buddhist practice and training, Gen Kelsang's fear of death has diminished to the point where, while she wouldn't characterize herself as looking forward to dying (which would be arrogant given the discomfort of the process), she could genuinely say she is no longer afraid of death.
“my fear of death is definitely gone...It would be foolish for me to say I'm looking forward to it. Actually, I probably am. At this point. But...my fear of death is definitely gone.”
Investing in the mind (through meditation, developing compassion and wisdom) is not hard and requires only modest dedication; this makes inner development accessible to everyone, not just monks or specialists.
“And it isn't difficult. It is not hard to do. It just takes a little investment in yourself. Only not the body. Not for yourself alone. But really learning how to tap in to the one part of you that has no limits. Your mind.”
Gomlam's mother said she doesn't need to think about death because 'I can't do anything about it,' but Gomlam disagreed, suggesting that there is in fact much one can do about death—through spiritual development and mind training.
“My own mom, she used to say, well, I don't see any reason to think about death because I can't do anything about it. I thought, well, yeah, that's what a lot of people think. So actually going toward death, facing it, for me in my profession, I had the good fortune to face it and watch it a lot.”
Gomlam taught her last class before surgery, assuming it might be her last, and used the analogy of taking her body 'to the shop for some body work' to reframe the surgery as maintenance rather than an existential threat.
“I was completely 50/50. That could be my last teaching, so I taught it like my last teaching. And what I told them is, 'I'm just taking my body into the shop for some body work.'”
The mind-body relationship is like a car and driver: the body is the mechanism, but the mind is what animates and operates it; therefore, protecting the mind is more fundamental than protecting the body.
“I'm just taking my body into the shop for some body work... the thing that makes the car work is the driver. So the thing that makes my body work is my mind. I need to work with that. Because it's not having surgery. My body is having surgery.”
Some people in hospice and healthcare professions justify avoiding thinking about death by saying 'I can't do anything about it anyway'; this reasoning allows continued avoidance despite being flawed.
“My own mom, she used to say, well, I don't see any reason to think about death because I can't do anything about it. I thought, well, yeah, that's what a lot of people think.”
The podcast aims to help listeners 'feel like we're living our best life every day' by understanding deeply that 'this may be our only day.'
“I really want to explore with you, in essence, how we can all get to live, feel like, in our hearts. We're living our best life every day. By understanding, really, more deeply in our hearts that this may be our only day.”
People benefit when in the presence of a positive, peaceful mind regardless of explicit communication; the quality of consciousness naturally infuses into surrounding social environments.
“Everybody benefits when you have access to a positive, peaceful mind.”
Gen Kelsang's work as a Kadampa teacher is described as a shift from clinical nursing focused on physical body care to spiritual nursing focused on helping people's minds develop, benefiting not only their current life but their continuance after death.
“And then I was asked to be a Kadampa teacher. And I started to be what I would call a spiritual nurse. And that way, my job description switched. I stopped being a clinical, physical nurse. And then became more of a spiritual nurse as a Kadampa teacher.”
The transition from clinical nursing to spiritual teaching represents a shift from helping people physically (caring for the body) to helping them mentally (caring for the part of consciousness that continues), with the latter being more fundamental.
“I'd spend a lot of time taking care of people physically, which wasn't enough. I'd learn that what you really need to do is take care of the mind, the part that doesn't die. And so there was a natural segue from me from clinical nursing. And then I was asked to be a Kadampa teacher. And I started to be what I would call a spiritual nurse.”
A person who dies peacefully does not need to have had religious faith, but can benefit from knowing someone (like a spiritual teacher or nurse) who has faith and provides confidence; this suggests that faith can be transmitted or borrowed in the context of dying.
“And I told her at the end of death, she said, I don't think anything happens. And I said, Well, I can just tell you that there's a part of you, Mom, that'll continue. And that there's always a very subtle connection. And you don't need to worry. Just relax. And everything will be... Just keep focused on all the good things that you've done, the people that you've loved. And I'll help you at the time of death. And it was very beautiful, actually.”
Gomlam's transition from being a scientifically trained, skeptical cardiac nurse to becoming an ordained Buddhist nun represents a complete integration: she has brought science and Buddhism together by treating Buddhist teachings about the mind as empirically validated knowledge.
“it's like you've obviously come from being very grounded in the scientific background. And also very much in that, let's say, the more unnatural way that somebody dies. In the hospital and so forth. And you're kind of faced with the reality of a natural death”
Gen's clinical supervisor told her she needed to encourage the atheist professor patient to take pain medication, but Gen had already asked and the patient refused because medication would prevent her from actively preparing meals for her husband—indicating a conscious choice of meaningful activity over physical comfort.
“My clinical supervisor said, this is ridiculous. You need to encourage her to take medicine. I said, well, I did, but she doesn't want any.”
Gen told her mother at the end of her life that there is a deathless part of her that will continue and a subtle connection, so she doesn't need to worry, and encouraged her to keep focused on all the good things she's done and the people she's loved, offering reassurance without requiring her mother to change her beliefs.
“I told her at the end of death, she said, I don't think anything happens. And I said, Well, I can just tell you that there's a part of you, Mom, that'll continue. And that there's always a very subtle connection. And you don't need to worry. Just relax. And everything will be... Just keep focused on all the good things that you've done, the people that you've loved. And I'll help you at the time of death.”
Gen Gomlam told her non-believing mother at the end of her mother's life that 'there's a part of you, Mom, that'll continue' and that she should 'relax' and 'keep focused on all the good things that you've done, the people that you've loved,' which was 'very beautiful' even for someone without faith.
“And I told her at the end of death, she said, I don't think anything happens. And I said, Well, I can just tell you that there's a part of you, Mom, that'll continue. And that there's always a very subtle connection. And you don't need to worry. Just relax. And everything will be... Just keep focused on all the good things that you've done, the people that you've loved. And I'll help you at the time of death. And it was very beautiful, actually.”
Gomlam wanted to learn more about compassion and how to help people develop it at the time of death so that more people would have peaceful death experiences, making this the motivation for becoming a Buddhist teacher.
“And I thought, what if I could learn more about that and then help people develop that at the time of death. Then more and more people would have that experience when they're dying.”
Gen spent 20+ years in intensive care, cardiovascular care, and open-heart surgery nursing, loving the activity and excitement before transitioning to hospice care in rural New Mexico.
“after I received my degree in nursing, I spent about 20 years in high-tech nursing, intensive care, and cardiovascular care, open-heart surgery. I loved all that. I just loved the activity and the excitement of it.”
Rural hospice care without advanced medical technology, administered by a single nurse to patients in remote areas, is preferable to hospital-based intensive care because it allows natural dying and meaningful human connection.
“I had no machines. I had no physicians. I had nothing but just myself and my good heart and a few little nursing tools to help people actually die at home... They were so grateful. It was so different.”
Gen Kelsang went to Buddhist teachings every Monday for two months initially and 'never stopped,' meaning she continued attending and deepening her practice over 23+ years, receiving increasingly detailed information over time.
“I went every Monday for the next two months. And actually, I never stopped because I kept getting more and more information.”
Gen felt safe exploring Buddhism at a university continuing education center and didn't feel pushed or pressured because it was in a university setting, allowing her scientific sensibility to engage without religious discomfort.
“So I thought in my little scientific cocoon, I thought, great. I'm going to go to the university. I feel safe. And I could explore this religion there.”
Gen Kelsang's early life before discovering Buddhism was characterized by being 'pretty scientific' and liking 'fixing things'—fixing bodies—which reflected a practical, mechanistic orientation that was eventually integrated into a different paradigm focused on mind transformation.
“I was pretty scientific, and I liked fixing things. I liked fixing bodies.”
Gen wanted to be a nurse from childhood because she thought it would bring benefit to the world, though this goal was subtle at the time, and she received a degree in science and nursing.
“I spent my early life receiving a degree in science and nursing. I always wanted to be a nurse because I thought I could bring benefit in the world. That was sort of a subtle goal, though.”
A teaching on 'understanding the mind' at a university continuing education center felt safe and accessible to Gomlam because it was in an academic setting, which allowed her to explore Buddhism without feeling pressured by religious rhetoric.
“And there was only one person that answered the phone. The rest were all machines. And this person was very, very impressive to me. You'd probably like them because they were Irish. And they said, you know, I'm teaching on a topic called understanding the mind. And I'm teaching at the university at the Continuing Education Center. So I thought in my little scientific cocoon, I thought, great. I'm going to go to the university. I feel safe. And I could explore this religion there.”
Gomlam wore ordained Buddhist robes to work as a hospice nurse at her supervisor's approval, and this visible symbol sometimes prompted conversations about her identity and beliefs that created opportunities for spiritual support.
“And I had permission at that point to wear my ordained robes as long as I wore a top like this. My supervisor said, because one day I asked if I could wear my robes at work because I was in retreat. Would she mind if I did that? And so she said, well, wear them to work and I'll see. And I wore them to work. And she said, actually, I think you look better. You could wear those. So that was nice. So I always wore a little top.”
Gen Kelsang began attending Buddhist teachings at the university continuing education center in Albuquerque after calling around and finding only one person still answering phones (rather than having voicemail), which suggests that human connection rather than convenience was the factor that got her to attend.
“I called around in Albuquerque many years ago to figure out where I could go check. And there was only one person that answered the phone. The rest were all machines. And this person was very, very impressive to me.”