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52 Trip Around The Sun -
Have
traveled about 348,000,000 miles.
Thoughts
during the week:
A
friend in
Considering
last week’s “Side Trip,” and noticing there were no non-Christians included on
the program, I got to wondering if my own trip is too heavily weighted to
Christian denominations. I don’t find any Jewish congregations in
I
understand the Interfaith Counsel does include non-Christians – may just be
hard to attract them to a group that is mostly Christian.
The
Visit:
There is
so much to tell – and no way to tell it well. This was quite an experience –
lasting about 4 hours.
I
arrived at the monastery grounds at about
I went
into the Tea Room – found in there the following:
“Love and understanding Programs in
Orphans
– The elderly without families – victims of monsoon floods.
I had
raspberry tea.
Then I
went into the book store. I bought a video tape – solely on the strength of its
title. “Taking Refuge in our Parents.” I have not viewed it yet – may include
something of that in the next report. I saw some plates (like large dinner
plates) that had words on them.
in this
food i see clearly
the
presence of the entire
universe
supporting
my
existence
thich nhat hanh
This is a thing I have believed for a long
time. If you are interested, go to GoAskGrandpa.com and read “What We Must Own
to Exist.” It is factually the entire universe.
As I
was wandering outside, a man asked me if I was going to “The Talk.” I followed
him to the right place for that. It was a single large room – flat floor – no
stage nor lectern. Sitting was all on the floor – with mats. Everyone sat with
legs folded (tailor-sitting?) I have never been able to do this with comfort. I
was directed to an area roughly in the center of the floor.
Then
the monk began his talk. It was in Vietnamese – His voice was deep and kind –
but I could not understand his words. But I found that I was hearing each
sentence first in Vietnamese and then in English – and the voice was feminine
and just as sweet. I could understand everything the monk was saying – except
for when he recited a poem. During that poem, the English did not come through
at all – it was Vietnamese only, and I did not understand it.
Technology
is wonderful – a modern day “interpretation of tongues.” That center part of
the floor included little boxes – into which we could plug a small headset –
and within the headset was this nice little nun’s voice – I finally saw her
over on the side – with her microphone. When the monk recited the poem, she
giggled – and then stated that this was a poem – and full of meaning that she
could not put into English words. It wasn’t a great problem, as the monk
continued to explain the meaning – in non-poem style – and the nun put that all
into English just fine.
The
monk said that he likes to read children’s books. He regards himself as a child
and finds children’s books to have more truth often that the adult
counterparts.
He
centered his talk about the meaning in one of these little books.
They do
not have “Thanksgiving” in
He
spoke of a little stove. (His talk was an hour and a half – and I didn’t take a
pen in with me – I’m trying hard to remember important parts. When the little
stove quit working, they didn’t throw it away, as we do here – but kept it in
the house as an object to be thankful for. It had served them over some period
of time – and was now regarded as something to keep and remember. Just as we,
when we die, do not lose our value – so with the little stove. Its value never
ends.
This
all made me think of my Dad. He was a very grateful man – and he was a
“keeper.” We found a hundred rolls of old tape in the garage – some that you
couldn’t strip an inch off without it tearing. There were a dozen cans of WD-40
in various stages of emptiness. You would not believe how many other things.
Was this part of his gratitude? There were more than forty pairs of old
glasses. There were almost a dozen old obsolete telephones in a large box.
The
monk asked, “Who are you?” He said we might answer with a name, but that name
is not who we are. We could say it is our body – the physical person – but
disease and age make that go away – it’s temporary. He wanted to know who we
were that is lasting. “The real us,” he said. We are never born – and we never
die.
This
tailor sitting was getting to me – my back will tell me for a week. I was also
embarrassed the way I had to keep changing my position a little – while
everyone else (about a hundred people) were sitting it what appeared to be
perfect comfort. About half appeared Vietnamese or other Oriental – and the
other half were Caucasian. Almost all the headsets were on the Caucasians,
though there were a few younger Orientals wearing them also. I was the only one
who could not sit still.
The
talk was engrossing, and I got a little more comfortable with the sitting. As I
write this report, my back is fine – we’ll see in the morning.
“and
our mind,” he said. “Is our mind us?” “But when we sleep, we are not aware –
where is the mind then?” “It is not our body, and it is not our mind.” “Things
that are born – that die or sleep and go away – these things are not us.”
I wish
I could remember more details – especially about the thanksgiving part of the
talk – there was much – and I still find myself impressed with the general feel
of it even with the details missing. This was an hour and a half talk –
interesting throughout, and this is all the details I have.
Then
there was a song (hymn?) in English. They mostly knew the words. “Please let us
respect our teachers and our parents. Let us feel gratitude for all they do” –
and it continued as a song of gratitude.
Then
another song in Vietnamese. We had taken the headsets off – and I had lost my
power of “The Interpretation of Tongues.” Once you have such a gift, it is hard
to give it up. I would like to have known what was in that hymn. I suspect it
may have been the same hymn of gratitude that I had just heard in English.
On
entering, everyone took off their shoes and made a little bow. On exit, the
same, in reverse.
There
were little signs all about the grounds. This is quite extensive. Nothing is
fancy or expensive looking – but perhaps a hundred or more acres and many
simple buildings. One sign said, “enjoy breathing” There are generally no
capital letters on anything. Another, “peace begins with a gentle smile”
I’m
leaving the periods out of these quotes because I didn’t know another way to
show that the signs had no punctuation.
There
were large, probably ceramic, gongs. They looked like large bowls. When they
were struck, everyone bowed – and were silent until the ringing quiets. There
was one in this room for the talk. Another outside in the open area. Another in
the eating area, which is coming now – after the talk. It is about
They
call it “formal lunch.” The numbers increased to about 150 for this. The long
line to get in was forming very gently – a few at a time would be at the door –
no hurry whatever – by anyone. I got in the line, and shortly found I was not
in the right line. There were two lines – one for females – one for males. I
was in the female line. I switched, and there were some giggles – mild – but
they were there – they felt inclusive – like laughing with me instead of at me.
Inside
were two long tables filled with food. As each person gets to the table, he
bows with his hands in the familiar “praying hands” orientation – fingers near
the chin. Then that person picks up a spoon and chop sticks – a bowl and a
plate. There was no meat in any of the dishes – and the food was quite
wonderful.
In the
large eating room, there were four long rows of pads for tailor sitting. All
the women were sitting in two of these rows – and facing the men in the other
two rows. Behind each set of two rows – were chairs – one row for each gender. I noticed it was the senior
citizens that used the chairs, and so I counted myself among them.
Also
notable – was that nobody was eating. No one takes a bite until all have filled
their plates and taken their places. (Oh – no wonder no one was in a hurry to
get in the line.)
Then I
noticed – “Oh no,” of a hundred and fifty people, I was the only one with shoes
on. Looking to the left, I saw the rows of shoes. I quietly got up – went back
and removed my shoes. As I was returning, my appropriate repentance complete,
two different men smiled gently at me. (Remember – peace begins with a gentle
smile) I was made not to feel embarrassed at all – though there was a large
sign which read, “please no shoes beyond this line”
About
twenty minutes after I had filled my plate, it appeared we were ready to eat –
one of the bowl-shaped gongs was sounded. They have a beautiful sound. I could
pick up four distinct frequencies. On the initial contact, a loud near 800 CPS
tone – which quickly diminishes into an about 400 CPS tone. Then there is a
lower tone – perhaps 50 or 60 CPS – like you hear from florescent light
fixtures – and the most interesting – a frequency below hearing of about 1 ½
CPS. (A little more than one per second) – and this one moves the 400 CPS tone
up and down in amplitude at that low frequency. Everyone bows – and is silent,
while this sound is going. It’s a beautiful sound – I would like to get one of
these. The nature of the sound would indicate many other overtones which I
could not pick out.
Everyone
picked up a spoon – or a chopstick – but no – it was not time. They put the
object in some food item, such that it stood vertical in the middle of the
plate. Each of nine monks said little “blessings” on the food. I remember, in
particular, the words, “We thank the entire universe for this food, without
which we could not have this food.” Oh yes – another one, “Keep us not
encumbered by thoughts of the past or of the future.”
About
thirty minutes past plate-filling, we ate. My soup, which I was looking forward
to, was cold – but delicious. Again – a reason not to be in a hurry to get into
the food line – the later, the better. The entire meal was something special –
I never had quite such a long-lasting era of thanksgiving before the meal. I’m
always trying to get everyone to hurry up so the food will be hot, as if it’s
really the food that it’s about. I really do think I learned something that
will add to my sensitivity. Leona has always been better at this than I.
Both
the nuns and the monks had shaved heads. They were not invisible of hair like
“skinheads,” but had the color without any length – like a 5 o’clock shadow.
Mostly, they had dark hair, so it was visible. A couple of older nuns had a
white look without visible hairs. I had the thought that the little nuns had
pretty little heads. They had sweet personalities – with those “gentle” smiles
quite common among them – also among the monks.
It
appeared to me that the nuns and the monks did not eat the food the rest of us were
eating – but rice only – from deep small bowls.
After
the eating was finished, the monks went out of the room – and re-appeared with
some special robes – my neighbor told me they were going to pray for permission
– I think to go to France. They returned to our room – and to their pads –
passing directly past me. Two of them had obviously been crying – maybe more
than two.
When to
their pads – they each said a prayer aloud. I could not hear lots of it.
When
this was finished, everyone stood to exit. Exiting was orderly. All went a line
at a time to the rear of the room and then down the center back to the front,
bowing, putting back on their shoes, and out, each carrying his own utensils
and bowl and plate. As we went outside, each person moves along a line – a
soapy bath for the dishes – then a rinse – and then another rinse – and then
another rinse. The rinse water was being constantly replenished with new. Then
there were towels to dry the dishes – and the dishes were stacked – and taken
back to the kitchen. Each person washed his own dishes. It was all done in
about five minutes. Hey – any activities chair-people reading this?
The
long outdoor stairway back to the facility at the top was about equal to five
or six flights – I had hardly noticed coming down. It reminded me of BYU from
the South side of campus. Then I noticed on one of the steps – one of the
little signs – “peace is every step”
I shall
never forget it.
The
Trip Around The Sun Hot Rod was parked in plain view – and drew absolutely no
attention. This has never happened before on the trip, (nor did it happen after
this visit either) - not among Christians, Jews, Muslim, Atheists, Hindus – nor
anywhere at all. There is a certain “focus” that appears to preclude such
interests here at Deer Park.
31 of
52 Trip Around The Sun -