Wake Up and Laugh!

Here’s a guest post from Bonsai Doug about this messy process of working out our own salvation.

The term “footedness” refers to a preference to put one’s left or right foot forward in the various board-sports like surfing, or skateboarding – a “regular stance” if you will.  The opposite of this regular stance is often referred to as “goofy-foot.”

I often feel I’m traveling my personal Buddhist path a bit goofy-footed.  Let me try to explain.

I live in a small, rural area of western New York.  There is no temple or sangha to help me on my path.  So, I rely heavily on my library (I devour books!) and my online community to be my sangha.  While this sometimes makes for a bumpy path, it also makes for one rich in all the varied and wonderful traditions of Buddhism.

I have two bodhi seed malas which I love.  But I know I’m not using them quite as intended. Meditation (no secret here) is challenging.  So when concentrating on breaths, I often use a mala to count those breaths, and to keep my mind as focused as possible.  The result is that I do not sit quite as “still” as recommended, but it seems to work for me.  It has made meditation something I very much look forward to.  I know the mala is used in the counting of mantra and prostrations, so I guess my approach here too is a bit goofy-footed.  Or perhaps I should coin a new phrase… “goofy-handed?”

My goofy-footed approach, however, has resulted in many great stops along the way.  Friends made while in Korea.  Gary Gach, the author of “The Complete Idiot’s Guide To Buddhism.”  Lunch with the monks of Wat Mongkolratanaram.  A personal tour of the Byodo-In temple in Hawaii.  Being present when the Jade Buddha for Universal Peace arrived at the Minh Dang Quang Temple in Florida.  And of course, discovering “Wake Up and Laugh.”

I sincerely hope my goofy-footed approach proves fruitful.  I do know I am the better for it.  I’ve never been happier and more at peace with myself and those around me.  I am far more caring, loving and compassionate than ever before.  Walking my path, albeit goofy-footed, is providing for a wonderful journey.

And whenever I become a bit discouraged with my goofy-footed journey, I remind myself of a quote from His Holiness the Dalai Lama:

We all travel our own path to enlightenment.
  And just because someone is not following on our path, it does not mean they are lost.
 
Namaste, and be well!
                                        Doug

More about bowls!

The last couple of posts have really brought up some great points about striving, versus freeing oneself from dualities. I found myself laughing, because I agreed completely with everyone!

The first point is spiritual capacity. As Joseph brought up in yesterday’s post, our spiritual capacity is a like a bowl: it can only hold that much. Anything more overflows and is lost (or makes a mess).  So what can we do to increase our size, or as Barry points out, is this desire to be a bigger bowl actually a dualistic hindrance.

I think the answer lies in the approach. Why do we want to do this? Is it because we keep hearing Dharma talks and can’t remember them afterwards? Is it because we aren’t doing a good job of putting into practice what we know, or that we feel like what the Tibetans call a broken cauldron – no matter how much is put in, nothing is retained, nothing seems to be learned (from the experience).

At the risk of pushing an analogy too far, what determines our bowl size? To me, it’s whether we are living based upon our conditioned thoughts and urges of the body, or whether we are moving from something deeper.  Then the question becomes how do we get in touch with this something deeper, this something that has ten-thousand names.  The only way I know how to do this is by heavily returning everything to this fundamental mind, this Buddha-essence – letting go of “me,” what I know, and what I want to do. I’ve also heard someone describing this as “letting go to emptiness.” 

In a sense this is dying to all that stuff, but the unexpected result is that in becoming aware of this that transcends all dualities, energy and wisdom burst forth, and I’m better able to respond and be with what is happening.  Now, I’m able to actually hear what it is I’m truly called to do.

Somehow, all that gunk of “me,” desires, and resistance, is a paradox. If I indulge it and chase it, worry about it and fear it, my life slowly becomes a hell realm. Yet, if I fully become one with it and dive into this emptiness, then even that becomes an opportunity to awaken and grow.  Even that which I would despise becomes my gateway. This still seems so weird and amazing to me! 

Daehaeng Kun Sunim once said about the desire to practice, that “Yes, it is also a discriminating thought. But when you let go of it and entrust it to your inherent nature, it becomes a burning log that ignites and consumes the great mountain of logs that have accumulated over endless eons.”

At Saturday Sangha this week, Chong Go Sunim mentioned a Korean Buddhist saying that I hadn’t listened to before. Our spiritual capacity is like a bowl, it can only hold so much. Once it’s full, it just spills out over the edge. Then, no matter how great the teaching, only so much of it can be retained.

Of course, the first question that crossed my mind was, “So, how do we increase the size of our bowls?”

There is a magnificent temple in Ladphrao, Chokchai 4, in the north of Bangkok, dedicated to the Bodhisattva Avalokitesvara, which is well worth a visit. At the temple’s centre is a huge pagoda containing four thousand-armed Kuan Yins, and in every hall there are an uncountable number of statues and images of Kuan Yin and of Amida Buddha.

I went back there again last December as a guest of the Sunims at the Bangkok Hanmaum Seonwon, who had been invited there with many other Bhikkunis and female laypeople to recieve special awards honoring them for their work on Women and Buddhism by the Grand Master Shi Kuang Seng, who founded the temple, the ‘Avalokitesvara’s Great Compassion Stupa of 10,000 Buddhas’, twenty one years ago.

The awards were delivered by HRH Princess of Thailand, Prof. Dr. Chulabhorn Walailak, the youngest daughter of the King of Thailand, and so we arrived in good time to take our seats. The sight of so many Bhikkunis in many different kinds of robes – Thai, Korean, Chinese, Tibetan, Japanese, orange, grey, brown, red, black – was wonderful. Sadly, due to a computer glitch, I have no photos to show you.

Dr Lee Bhikkuni, a regular visitor to the seonwon, was also there to receive an award, as well as Mae Chee Brigitte, and many others who I didn’t recognise. You can imagine the colours, the brass band playing, the fans whirring, and even the Princess herself, after presenting the awards, giving a recital of some traditional Thai music. And behind all the female monks were a thousand Bhikkus there to perform a chanting ceremony later in the day.

Spotting a few faces I recognised, I went over to the monks and learnt that Phra Pandit, organiser of the wonderful Little Bangkok Sangha, had also been there. Apparently he’d seen me wandering around with my camera and had waved furiously, but was unable to get my attention. “What sexism” he joked on the phone later that night, “taking all those photos of the Bhikkunis and ignoring the thousand Bhikkus behind you!”

The Princess left to the waves of crowds of enthusiastic Thai people in the streets outside, and we made our way back to the seonwon. Ceremonies to mark the anniversary of the temple, and to pray for the health of King Bhumibol and for World Peace, continued all month, with, on one evening, a Dharma talk from Hyaedan Sunim from the Bangkok Seonwon in Thai.

(For all us English-speakers, there’s no need to worry! We can study with Hyaedan Sunim every month at the Bangkok Seon Club! See you there!)

Link:
Sandy Boucher: A wonderful account of the event, and of her two weeks with Shi Kuang Seng.

In this next section of Admonitions to Beginners, the Venerable Ya-un reminds us of the influence our environment can have. We tend to go in the direction of our thoughts, so there’s a good argument for being careful in who we associate with and what situations we put ourselves in.  

Associate with virtuous friends and avoid evil people.   

When a bird wants to rest, it chooses a good grove of trees. Like this, a person who wants to learn the way has to choose his teachers and friends. If a bird chooses a good grove, it rests peacefully. If teachers and friends are well chosen, great learning will be attained. Therefore, show devotion to good friends as you would to your mother and father, and keep wicked acquaintances far away from you.  

Just as a crane does not associate with crows, how could a majestic phoenix associate with cowbirds? Among a forest of pine trees, even an arrowroot vine can rise a hundred meters into the sky, but in a field of weeds, even a pine tree can’t rise more than three feet. Keep far away from low-minded and malevolent people, and always stay close to those outstanding beings who have attained the great meaning.  

Whether staying in one place
or traveling around,  

always associate with virtuous people,   

and remove all weeds and dust
from body and mind.
 
  

When all weeds and dust are removed,  

the way forward will suddenly
be bright and clear, 

                                             without taking even one step forward,  

                                                You penetrate the meaning of the Patriarchs.  

   

Here’s a guest post from Evelyn about life and practice.

See how, shaped by the excellence of the path,
I walk now without effort
toward the Buddha state.
I dance, I sing, I play!

— from Rainbows Appear: Tibetan Poems of Shabkar,
(Shabkar Tsogdruk Rangdrol) Translated by Matthieu Ricard

 
Have you ever done your very best with something, and then screwed it up…?

Let’s say you bake a wonderful cake for your son’s birthday party, and then you decorate it with a layer of mouth-watering strawberries….

and later you’re puzzled by the strange look your son’s girlfriend has as she take the first bite. Only then do you realize that at the very last step, you used salt instead of sugar for the glaze….…

 
Ok friends, you’re allowed to laugh – four weeks ago we did, too! LOL!

 
There was a time I would have been embarrassed for days about this mishap! I would have searched for reasons how this could happen ( somebody had left the salt on the kitchen worktop where it shouldn’t be, somebody called me in the crucial moment, I was in a hurry because…)

No. I was just careless.

My fault. The salt stood there and I took it because I just didn’t pay attention to what I was doing. I wasn’t “here.” 
 

Walking on the Buddha’s path, I’ve learned that there’s only one true misdeed: not to learn from what’s happened.

Tantra is a wonderful path: we can take our time to walk, we open our eyes and with a bit of patience for us and others, we finally come forward. We went wrong? Ok, let’s correct the direction. We can change negative aspects into positive ones – if we pay attention. And in case we aren’t too embarrassed to sometimes say “sorry, my fault.” 

On Raoul’s birthday i quickly said, “sorry, my fault,” (which finished the negative aspect) and because we all were hungry, I called the pizza service, (hmm, a rather positive aspect) and then we had a nice evening – dancing, singing, playing.

On the northern edge of Gyeongsanbuk-do, past the ginseng fields of Punggi, just south of the middle of nowhere, sits Buseoksa, Temple of the Floating Stone.  No matter where you’re traveling from, it’s far away, hence it’s appeal.

The path to the temple is surrounded by terraced gardens and orchards, and lined with cherry trees. As I made my journey up the hill toward the temple, the rain fell intermittently but the dense mist creeping through the hills made it worth the damp clothes and foggy camera lens. The only sounds were the drips of condensation falling from the branches and the distant chants of Mahayana’s Greatest Hits being played in the temples sound system. From a distance, it sounded less like a recording and the echoes of the mokteok and sutras added to the environment.

Like most country temples, the gate is still a ways from the rest of the complex, creating a nice space between the temple, the car park and everything before it. It’s a nice time to thumb through my yeomju  and whisper 108 Namo Amitabuls, Gwan Sae Eum Bosals, or whichever other Bodhisattva is with me at that moment. I followed a small side road and admired the cherry blossoms, then returned on my way to the temple.

oooo

Buseoksa dates back to 676 CE (1220 BE – Buddhist Era) and was founded by Venerable UiSang. UiSang Daesa, along with his friend WonHyo Daesa, were the first truly influential monks in Korean Zen history. Uisang Daesa studied the Mind Only and Buddha Nature teachings at Hwangbok temple in GyungJu, during the reign of  Silla’s  SeonDeok YeoWang (Lady King). Eventually he made his way to Tang Dynasty China to study the doctrine of  the Avatamsaka Sutra (Flower Garland Sutra), which Buseoksa became a center of. He is also known for doing away with social hierarchies and indiscriminately gave positions to all classes of people within the Buddhist community.

Given the soggy and chilly weather, there were only a few other people visiting, which maintained the silent atmosphere. I climbed a short flight of stairs, passed beneath the first roof and greeted the ubiquitous guardians of the four corners, who stand before most temple complexes in Korea.  Once through, you are in the complex. In Buseoksa, you are immediately confronted by an impressive and massive two storey pavilion that houses the temple’s drum. The wooden dragon-headed fish, carved from a log, hung beside the drum, the belly hollowed out to be used as a percussion. The grounds are surrounded by a short, horse-shoe slope that wrapped the temple with the first buds of Spring. Muryangsujeon, the main hall, remains one of Korea’s oldest wooden structures. Within, there lingers an air of clarity, the scent of that which was never born, never dies, and cannot be named.

Beside the main hall sits, or rather floats, the stone Buseoksa owes its name to. When UiSang arrived in China he was exhausted from the long trip across the sea. He was invited by a local Buddhist lay-family to stay in their home. The daughter, SeonMyo, immediately fell deeply in love with UiSang. But, since he was a monk, who took his precepts seriously, he could not accept her love. She became his faithful disciple and made a vow of eternal devotion to him as her mentor. When he attained Buddhahood in China and  returned to Silla, she followed. That’s history’s version of the story, but legend tells it differently. When he left China, SeonMyo was distraught. Running out to the pier after his ship, she threw herself into the waters and became a dragon, protecting UiSang’s ship on his return to the peninsula. Later, when UiSang was threatened by a group of locals while building his temple, SeonMyo flew into the sky with a large boulder to protect UiSang. In the 17th century, it was documented in the official text of the Joseon Dynasty that a string could be pulled beneath the entire length of the stone, proving that it is indeed floating.

I followed a path up the slope, behind the ridge, to a small hermitage, exactly the kind of place I’d love to live in, plant a garden, and practice meditation. The path continued further and I discover two small shrines. The first was firmly closed, but I was able to jar the doors of the second one open. Inside were three carved Buddhas, more impressive for their age than their over all aesthetic, but still interesting enough to me. I was able to spend a few minutes alone before finally being caught-up with by the first tour group of the day. That’s usually a good sign that it’s time to go, so I gathered myself and began my way back down.  A small portion of the group was in front of  me and I was behind a young woman and her mother. Being slightly quieter than the average Korean tourist, the mom must not have known I was behind her. As she walked, talking loudly to her daughter, she let out a fart like a penny whistle caught in a bullfrog. I, in turn, let out a bit of a giggle, and she turned her head to see the foreigner behind her. They both burst out laughing and sped up their way down the hill, and I was left struck with the epiphany; If you’re not going to look behind you before you fart, don’t bother looking after!

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For all those who bear the secret sign of the woodcarvers’ guild (scars on the thumbs and index fingers from slips with the knife 😉 ), here’s a photo essay on how a wooden Buddha statue is carved. This display is at the Mok-A Museum in Korea, with the finished statue about 10 inches high. The founder is officially designated as what can best be described as National Living Treasure #108. Here’s a link to his site, and here’s a link to some photos of his work. (Click on the images here to see them up close.)

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