夏日的禪悅 |
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當我初次聽到太谷精舍即將舉辦中台朝聖之旅時,非常有興趣。當時的第一個想法是:「我何時才會有其他機會去台灣,而且有熟悉的台灣人引導我?」很明顯地,這是一個很特別的機會,所以我與同修一起報名參加了。 (When I first heard that the Sunnyvale Zen Center was organizing a trip to Taiwan, I immediately became interested. My first thought was "When will I have a chance to go to Taiwan again? And having people who know the place well to guide me?". It was clear it was a very unique opportunity. So I convinced my wife to come along and we signed up. Despite the excitement, there was also a small piece of apprehension in our minds about it too since, as the departure date approached, it became clear that we would be the only non-asian people in the group. Add to that the normal fear of the unknown: unknown country, unknown language, unknown customs and behaviors, and a mostly unknown group of people. The mix of excitement and anxiety made me see this as a new challenge. A good one, but a challenge after all. Liking a good challenge as I do, we packed our bags, opened our hearts and minds and jumped in. Our first Day was spent in Kaoshiung. The welcome reception broke all the ice and any reminiscence of apprehension. An entire group of volunteers and shifus from PuShang Zen Center had planned a warm welcome party and a breakfast banquet for us. Afterward, we visited PuTong and PuGao Zen Center, asked questions, talked to shifus and volunteers and had a great experience. This scene repeated itself everywhere we went -- people happy to welcome strangers whom they may never had seen before, but they treated us as family. The learning part of this trip was just beginning. We had many formal and informal learning opportunities. The formal ones were lectures and teachings. The informal ones were those hidden messages behind simple things during the trip. Everything had a meaning or a lesson behind it. Here are some of the lessons learned. One of the "touristic" activities we did in the Kaoshiung area was at a tea factory. We learned hands-on how to make Lei Cha (Hakka Pounded Tea). Lei Cha is a kind of green tea mixed with beans, sesame seeds, peanuts and rice. The making of it is very simple, all the ingredients need to be hand ground by rubbing a pestle against a mortar. But one can't simply do this mindlessly. It requires a special kind of grinding and mixing that involves patience and the right dose of force. If one simply applies too much force, the tea will become lumpy and with even more force, the handmade ceramic mortar might break or lose its delicate ridges. So, practicing mindfulness and patience is the hidden lesson here to master the art of making Lei Cha. This is a Hakka custom. Hakka people are Han Chinese who immigrated to Taiwan many decades ago. The word hakka means "guests", because they weren't the first people to come to Taiwan and they were so named to indicate that they're occupying the land as guests of the real locals. But many years have passed and more immigrants have now come to Taiwan, and so the hakkas are the real locals. Our second night, we stayed at a Taiwan indigenous Rukai village. We participated in their celebration of the Harvest Festival and learned about their history and how they run the village. It was interesting to see that they all woke up very early the next day at the sound of their chief on loud speakers summoning them to come sweep the streets in preparation for the Harvest Festival. I'll leave this lesson for you to think about. The next morning we left the Rukais after some delicious breakfast made with local vegetables from the mountain around us. That morning, someone prepared a bowl of breakfast for JianGong Shifu and asked me to watch out for flies. So I kept shooing the flies from shifu's bowl until he came. A while later, when shifu was eating his meal, I shooed a fly that had landed on his bowl, and he told me not to worry, "I always share my meals with other sentient beings", he said to me. "Great compassion", I thought to myself, not realizing yet what I was about to understand. Later in the trip we stopped at a paper factory. Paper making is very simple and manual. It does not require much technology. The simple mixing of the processed pulp with water and then draining the excess water with a sieve is enough to cause the paper to form. But like making tea, making paper requires attention to details or the sheets of paper can easily get mushed together while they're still wet, and that would yield a thick block of paper instead of a thin sheet of a ream. The lesson I took from this is that simplicity is beautiful and does not mean it's easy or trivial -- it's just pure. Still at the paper mill, I witnessed another very interesting scene. Someone had spotted a dead frog. It was a big brownish frog, laying on the ground, covered in flies and other insects. Immediately, JianGong Shifu took two big leaves that had fallen on the ground and used them to cover the dead frog. He also said a few words to the frog. Of course, shifu knows that covering the dead frog won't help the frog -- it's dead already. But out of compassion, that's what he figured he would do. And that's when I realized what kind of compassion that was. It was child-like. Yes, it was child-like -- that's exactly what a child would do, because children have a pure mind. So, it dawned on me: great compassion is child-like, it comes from a pure mind, like a child's mind. Arriving at the main Chung Tai Monastery in Nantuo was a great excitement. It was night time already and heavy summer rain came to greet us, which added to the mystery of that majestic place. And again, we learned a lot there. Stories of the Buddha and the Grand Master, as well as how the monastery was architected and built. JianYing Shifu explained to us that everything has a purpose and a meaning and nothing is there just casually or for pure aesthetics or entertainment. They combine form and aesthetics with purpose and meaning. Like the four-headed Heavenly King that supports the building (structure) as well as serving as the watcher of our practice (meaning) and also a beautiful attraction (form and aesthetics). The Grand Master spoke to us about compassion and living a purposeful life. The abbot, Venerable JianDeng , also expounded on sustainability, compassion and harmony. He mentioned something that science has already confirmed: raising animals for meat consumption is a big source of air and water pollution. Cow and pig manure releases toxic gases like methane. Their feces can also contaminate nearby lakes and rivers, especially because this type of production happens at large scale in a concentrated place. So, being vegetarian is not only good for you individually, but for the environment too. This trip also brought some unanswered questions. The multiplication of the relics, which we've seen in two different places during the trip, is something difficult for a scientist's mind to accept. But as JianYing Shifu explained, we do not need to blindly accept that. He's not asking us to believe in it at face value nor is he asking us to dismiss it completely. He's just asking us to ponder the possibility and be open to accepting that it could happen. And that's a good lesson for everything in life. Everything has another side and multiple pieces or layers of truth. It's incumbent on us to accept that other people's opinions, their beliefs and their ways of doing things is neither right nor wrong. It just is. The appropriateness of each action, behavior or thing is up to the circumstances to decide -- how they fit with the causes and conditions at any given moment. Towards the end of our journey, I noticed that throughout this entire trip I was always fully present in every experience, fully enjoying the moment. Even on vacation, that's a difficult thing to accomplish usually. The mind is always jumping from place to place, even at times when we're supposed to be enjoying the moment. When I reflected about why that was, I figured out a few good reasons. I believe the main one was the planning of the trip. Everything was planned very carefully for us, so we didn't have to think about anything. We didn't have to worry what time we arrived or left any place. And we didn't have to make plans in case of rain or make reservations anywhere. Even when one is on a pre-planned vacation, not worrying about these details is hard. One will always think and worry about things like "if it rains, I'll go to the museum instead of the beach", or "will there be a big crowd there", "will they have my favorite thing for lunch", etc. But since the trip was totally taken care of for us and we had no expectations of what was going to happen next, it was easy to relax and enjoy the moment fully. And for this careful planning and great attention to the little details, I give my sincere and deepest thanks to all those involved in it: the venerable masters JianYing Shifu and JianGong Shifu, the planners Ning Fong and Anita Tsai, our group leaders Syshin Horng and Christine Tam and all the hundreds of volunteers we've encountered during this journey at the 14 monasteries we visited, who welcomed so warmly. I'd also like to thank all the Sunnyvale Zen Center members who travelled with us and made sure we were part of their families. In a sense, we were very much family, as they were sharing rooms, meals, and their lives with us for two weeks.)
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